Searching For Life
by LoVefan4ever
Summary: Sometimes finding what you’ve been searching for is harder than not finding it at all. Letting it go is even harder. This is a LoVe story that spans years, three-quarters of a continent and maybe a little bloodshed. They wouldn’t be epic without it.
1. Prologue

**Title:** _**Searching For Life**_ - Prologue

**Author**: LoVefan4ever

**Rating:** R (or will be later)

**Word Count**: 1857

**Characters/Pairings**: Logan/Veronica, Logan/OFC, Keith, various others.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary**: Sometimes finding what you've been searching for is harder than not finding it at all. Letting it go is even harder. This is a LoVe story that spans years, three-quarters of a continent and maybe a little bloodshed. They wouldn't be epic without it.

**Spoilers:** Goes AU during 3x13 (Post-Game Mortem)

**A/N:** This is my vm_santa gift over on livejournal for the most awesome, lovely and talented vanessagalore. Writing for a woman of her talent was a tall order and I only hope that I can do it .

**A/N2:** A million thank-yous to Maria who is the quickest and most gracious fic helper/beta ever!! And also, to my friend and greatest cheerleader Sabrina. I wouldn't have half the words without her constant support! You both deserve lots of cookies (or Logan) whichever you prefer ; ) But you'll probably have to settle for my undying gratitude, which hey, is pretty much the same… right? ; )

**A/N3:** This will be a WIP because as usual I have to make everything into this big production instead of sticking to a one-shot like I had planned. Also because I wanted to get at least part of it posted so Vanessa would know I hadn't forgot about her. But no worries, since this is a gift, it is on the top of my priorities. And of course, all mistakes are mine.

**Also, I have not forgotten about **_**Fractured Dreams**_. It is still being worked on and I will not abandon it, I promise. Thank you to all the people who have PM'd me and to those who still have an interest in it. You have no idea how much it means to me : )

*******

The crisp morning breeze filtered in through the open windows and permeated his senses. Logan never tired of waking up to the roar of the big blue ocean or the scent it brought into his beachside bungalow. When he'd been looking for a new place, there had never even been a question in his mind. He wanted to be on the Pacific- where many an artist thought the splendor of day's end soothed their trouble souls.

It was still early, nary a cloud to be seen and he thought the southern California sky had never looked more beautiful. Logan couldn't wait to get out into the surf and breathe along with the crest and troughs. He wanted to live amongst the waves if only for a little while.

On a usual morning it would be hard to get him to relinquish his surfboard but this day was special. Cliché or not, this day would be the first day of the rest of his life. He was finally beginning to believe that.

Logan had worked so hard over the years to make something of himself, wanted to be someone that Veronica and Keith would be proud of. They were the only ones who knew the boy from which he came. His work helping families whose loved ones were missing or had run away was his life's calling. Most days it helped him far more than he thought it helped his clients. It always brought them comfort, though, that he had a personal story to call his own.

Sometimes he thought about the past, wondered about all the what-ifs and the like. But most of his days were spent looking forward, blazing through to a hopefully bright future with the girl he loved. Today was only the beginning of many happy days ahead. He would ask where all his optimism had come from but he already knew the answer.

A sudden knock on the door brought him out of his reverie and he smiled with the thought of both the answer to his question and one person who would visit him this early. He thought she'd stay away today of all days but his girl was nothing if not spontaneous. It was one of the things he loved so much about her.

The door was flung open with the expectation of a small frame bursting in with coffee as she did on so many occasions. Coffee was her spice of life she'd always said- second only to him. God, he loved his girl.

But instead of slight and sassy, he was greeted by the sight of an older man whose face showed even more aging than his fifty-five years. Ten plus years of stress would do that to a man. He should know.

"Keith, what a nice surprise. Please, come in," he told him, gesturing inside his home.

"Logan," he started, struggling with his words.

"What is it Keith?" he asked nervously. "Is it about Veronica? Please, just tell me."

"I think we've found her. Alive," Keith replied, the hope clearly present.

Logan felt as though the breath was being sucked out of him, a giant weight pressing down making it impossible for him to drag any air back in. His slipper clad feet shuffled awkwardly backward until he met the couch where he dropped ungracefully.

"Logan, I know this isn't the time and I'm sorry, but I thought you would want to know."

"Are you sure?"

"The tip-line got a call. Seems someone spotted her at a diner in a town in Alabama. She's a waitress there. He emailed me the cell picture he took. It not a great picture, it's pretty fuzzy but Logan- I really think it's her," Keith told him, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Logan jumped upped, furious. "That's it?! A rotten blurry cell phone picture?! You want me to cancel my wedding for a tip on a hot-line that is ten years old?! They just re-ran that damned _Tinseltown Diaries_ story on me, Keith. I mean how do we know this guy isn't a nut job just looking for the reward?!" Logan paused his tirade before continuing in a softer tone. "I won't do that to Sarah, Keith. I love her." Looking down on the floor, he swallowed hard, running his right hand through his already tousled hair. "It took me so long to put what happened to Veronica past me. I never thought I could be happy with anyone. I can't just drop everything, Keith, and it's unfair for you to expect me to."

"I never," Keith started before he was cut off.

"You didn't?! Then why did you come here barely five hours before I'm supposed to say 'I Do?' I _loved _Veronica. I loved her more than any man should ever love any woman. And when she," he choked, "when she disappeared I didn't think I was going to survive. The search for her was the only thing that kept me going. But then after seven years when they declared her legally dead I had to make the hard decision. I needed to face things. I tried to move on but I felt dead inside- and I probably was."

He paused before beginning again, softly. "But then I met Sarah and everything changed. She made me happy again. I didn't want to be, thought it was selfish of me to leave Veronica behind. But Keith, I had to accept that she wasn't coming back and I know this is hard to hear, but you have to too. Veronica wouldn't have wanted this for you. She would have wanted you to move on, to try and be happy. You know she would have."

"I'm sorry Logan. I didn't come here to upset you. I just thought you'd want to know. Clearly I was wrong," he said, bitterness in his voice. "I will _never_ give up hope even if that means chasing every crazy-assed lead half-way across the world and back. I just can't- not if there is still a chance."

Logan replied, deflated. "You do what you need to, Keith, but I can't go with you. Not this time- not again. I've made my peace and I'm about to start a new life. Please, just let me have that."

Keith nodded sadly. "You do deserve it, Logan. I know you haven't always been my biggest fan nor have I been yours but I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us. I wish you all the happiness. I mean it."

"Thanks Keith," he told him, wondering if it would be the last time he saw the man. All at once everything seemed so final.

With a quick nod, Keith turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

Despite all the bravado in the world Logan couldn't keep the hope from nagging a little part of his conscience. Every time either he or Keith were sure they'd found Veronica alive his heart leapt at the possibilities. But every single time it was a let down; every single time it was losing her all over again. He had to keep the hope out for his own sanity.

The sound of his ringtone kept Logan from sinking any further into Veronica - induced memories. He grabbed the nearby device and looked at the display. Her timing was impeccable. She was exactly who he needed to talk to.

"Hello, sunshine," he answered with a smile.

"Hey, handsome. Got a minute?" Sarah asked warmly.

"I don't know, I'm supposed to get married today and my fiancée has been pretty much Atilla the Hun when it comes to the wedding. I can't be late for fear of death by the miraculous sword of Mars," he teased.

Tears threatened when he'd realized what he'd said. Damn Keith for showing up today of all days, bringing up memories and feelings he'd long suppressed.

Sarah immediately noticed the change in him and became concerned.

"Logan, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he sighed, dejected. "Keith came by."

"Why do I get the feeling that it was just more than a well-wishes visit?"

"He had some information on Veronica. Some guy called the hotline- claimed to have spotted her in some greasy spoon in Alabama."

"Oh, Logan," she replied, the empathy evident in her voice. "What are you going to do?"

Logan laughed bitterly. "What am I going to do? Nothing. I'm getting married today. To you. Or did you forget," he told her, harsher than he intended.

"Look. I know this is hard but you don't have to take it out on me. I love you, remember?"

"I know," he breathed out, deflated. "I'm sorry. It's just I don't know why he had to come here and tell me. He knows I've moved on and I can't keep following his pipe dreams of finding Veronica alive and well."

"It's ok you know," Sarah started in a soft soothing tone. "It's ok to have faith. She meant a lot to you. I'll understand if you hope that it's true."

"It's not true, Sarah. She's dead- a fact I've come to terms with. I love you and want to marry you. I can't let Keith drag me back in."

"But what if she were? What if she were alive? What would you do?" she asked, the insecurity starting to slip in.

"It wouldn't change things between us if that's what you're asking. I love you with everything I have to give. Even if Veronica turned up alive I'd still marry you," he told her, not sure exactly who he was trying to convince.

"I just want you to know that I understand if you need time to think about things and I'm here if you need me," she paused, "I'll wait for you, Logan."

"No, Sarah. I don't need time. I need _you_ and we're getting married. Today."

"Ok then," she said, a smile gracing her face, "See you at the altar. I'll be the one in white."

"Yeah, about that," he said laughing. "Just kidding. I can't wait."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

He ended the phone call thinking again about how lucky he was. Sarah was wonderful. Her own past made her sympathetic by nature but she never hesitated to call him on his shit when it was necessary. She and Veronica were alike in so many ways yet so different. He _did_ want Veronica to be alive and well somewhere; he hoped that she was happy if she was. But sadly he didn't believe that to be the case anymore. He just wished Keith could accept it like he had.

Logan didn't want things to be like that between he and the elder Mars but he'd meant what he'd said. He had a chance to have a future with a wonderful, beautiful woman and he couldn't pass it up- not for chasing dreams that would never be. He'd long ago accepted that Veronica was dead; nothing would change that. But Sarah had healed a little part of him that had died right along with her. His searching was done.

_To be continued…._

Reviews would be very nice : )


	2. Chapter One

**Title**: _Searching For Life_- Chapter One

**Author:** LoVefan4ever

**Rating:** R

**Warnings:** Some language.

**Word Count:** 6306 this chapter; 8362 total.

**Characters/Pairings:** Logan/Veronica, Logan/OFC, Keith, various others.

**Spoilers:** Goes AU during 3x13 (Post-Game Mortem).

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of _Veronica Mars_ or it's characters. I do not make any money from this.

**Summary:** Sometimes finding what you've been searching for is harder than not finding it at all. Letting it go is even harder. This is a LoVe story that spans years, three-quarters of a continent and maybe a little bloodshed. They wouldn't be epic without it.

**A/N:** This is an ongoing Christmas present for vanessagalore for vm_santa over on livejournal.

I have to thank Sabrina, the bestest friend and beta a girl could ever ask for who went above and beyond in this chapter! And many thanks to Mojo and her BFF, Bella, who helped me with my Spanish. Also, I'd like to thank Emma, Maria, and Mary for their continuous support and cheerleading. You all deserve lots of chocolate!!!

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ria pinched the top of her waitress uniform together, subconsciously checking to be sure the buttons were still closed. She didn't have much cleavage to speak of, but that didn't stop the small diner's male patrons from seeking it out anyway.

"Why won't you go out with me?" one of the more eager of the bunch asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Could it be the fact that you have a _wife_?"

"Soon to be ex-wife," he corrected.

"Well, that makes it _so_ much better," she responded, rolling her eyes.

She leaned over the counter and filled his cup with the freshly brewed coffee from the carafe in her hands. The strong scent wafted up into her nose and she was suddenly struck with a strong sense of déjà vu. She'd been having lots of those moments lately - a vague flicker of people or places flashing through her mind in bits and pieces, desperately trying to remind her of what was lost.

The images themselves were never enough to put together a whole picture, but they always brought something so inherently familiar. A time, a place, somebody waiting for her somewhere - she just didn't know and it was disheartening, to say the least. She would give almost _anything_ to find out exactly where she came from or if there was anyone out there that cared for her at all.

Her dreams were another mystery. Vivid images of a beautiful man, someone her soul felt it knew intimately, had captivated her nocturnal activities almost every night for the past three years. His face was always obscured, which was frustrating, but overwhelming sentiments of love and desire coursed through her, allowing her to sleep soundly, the euphoria of hope carrying her though the night.

Of course, it all could have been just fantasy – a mirage of love haunting her dreams, replacing the bad with good. The bad – singeing heat from an invisible fire, the rancid smell of non-existent smoke permeating her brain, both bringing terrifying possibilities of an unknown past. But the worst were the occasional screams that reverberated throughout her head. Hers or someone else's, she didn't know- only that unspeakable fears had been realized and she had no real desire to relive them.

The bell atop the glass door of the Riverside Restaurant dinged proudly, alerting everyone inside to its new guest. A bald man entered and Ria greeted him with a friendly smile in which he returned with one of his own. He wasn't tall by any means yet he seemed to silently require respect, possessing a quiet strength that went beyond his stature.

"Sit anyplace you like. Annie will be with you in a minute," she told him, taking note of his appearance.

Ria was sure the man wasn't local - he just reeked out-of-towner, not to mention that his jacket was quite out of place for a warm, sticky May in Alabama – but there was something her heart seem to recognize. Maybe it was the same tired shoulders that she carried herself, the weight of the world sitting squarely upon them, or maybe it was the recognizable weariness in his eyes. Either way, she was drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain.

She watched him closely as he chose the corner booth, sitting so that he could see the counter. After situating himself, he looked up and caught her staring. He regarded her curiously, his warm, friendly face seemingly searching hers. She found herself momentarily paralyzed by a tickle of recognition before she finally tore her gaze away from his, returning to her waitressing duties.

After the scare she'd had in Mexico, she'd settled in a sleepy little college town located in the northwest corner of Alabama. It's downtown cobblestone streets were lined with family-owned bookstores, quaint little antique traders and bars that pre-dated the civil war. Football was king and the only crime around was whatever trouble fraternity row found themselves in on Saturday nights.

Ria didn't think it was greatest life, but it wasn't like she had much to compare it to. She kept mostly to herself, too afraid to cultivate relationships for one reason or another. The only people she conversed with on a regular basis were a couple of long-time waitress from the diner and the elderly lady from whom she rented her apartment.

Her apartment was small, settled above an aged, pea-green garage in one of the historic districts. The living room was bare, as were the walls, and the dark-blue, Salvation Army couch was the only thing that stood out above the white of the carpet. She had saved up for five months to buy a twenty-seven inch color television but had pawned it a mere two months later for a camera she'd been inexplicably drawn to. The T.V had never been replaced with another.

Ria preferred to spend her days wandering the streets of Florence taking photograph after photograph of anything from co-eds playing Frisbee golf in Wilson Park to the eclectic architecture that gave the city its charm. She loved looking through the camera and being able to see subjects from and entirely different perspective. It was always nice to be able to live through her lens, escape into someone else's world for a while.

She also enjoyed reading classic crime novels while holed up in the dusty stacks of the top floor of the University Library's southeastern corner, choosing to nestle under its classic, arched stained glass windows. The mid-morning sunlight streamed in, washing beautiful color over the metal bookshelves and wooden tables, bringing brilliance to the mundane. It was her sanctuary, her refuge in the constant uncertainty that was her life.

The fear from her past had subsided over the years but the sense of longing never went away. The desire to belong somewhere, the need to know someone missed her, slowly outweighed any lingering concerns that her life was in danger. Too many days she had dragged her feet thoughtfully along the streets of Florence, hoping that someone would recognize her, that someone knew where she'd come from. It was ridiculous she knew, but that never stopped her from wishing for things to be different.

Ria had looked into her past before. Two years ago, this coming October, she'd made a trip to California. She'd lived meagerly and saved her tips for years before finally having both the money and the courage. She had still been nervous; there was no way of knowing if the nightmares she had were real, if her fear was founded or if the mind that switched back and forth from determination to vulnerability so quickly was playing tricks on her.

Nine days were all she could afford to take off and most of those were taken up by the bus ride out there and back. She was left with only three to search everywhere she could within a thirty-mile radius of the town in which the sweet grandmother and her grandson had so graciously taken her in. She'd had to limit her search to U.S. soil; it was too risky to cross into Mexico without a passport that allowed her to return.

In the end it didn't matter anyway. Nothing looked familiar to her, nothing felt right. She reasoned that it was possible she was looking in all the wrong places, that whomever she was running from had sent her a lot further than she could have imagined, or that whatever happened to her was too far suppressed ever to surface. None of these realizations made her feel any better.

Despite her growing bravery, the fear of the past that she'd been struggling against for eight years hadn't completely waned. It was right after the trip that she had decided that maybe _not_ knowing was for the best– maybe there was a reason things should stay buried. But looking back, she thought that maybe not finding out had been a mistake, because ever since, it had been the emptiness of that forgotten time that had constantly plagued her mind

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Ten years, three months earlier_

The fog around her brain was lifting, giving way to only momentary lapses of consciousness. Voices outside the darkness surrounding her began to break through, causing her heart to beat faster.

She had no idea where she was, only that she was warm and dry - two things that she didn't remember being earlier that day. Or was it yesterday - or did she imagine it all together?

The realization startled her and she started to scan her mind for things that she was supposed to remember. What day was it, how did she get wherever she was, and why couldn't she remember her name, or anyone else's, for that matter? She scrunched her forehead, desperately searching any recess of her subconscious for the answers. She found none – only bits and pieces of a memory of herself: cold, wet, alone and scared.

Her confusion made its way into fear. What had happened to her? Her head ached – she didn't know if it was from thinking too hard or something else entirely. She ran a hand over the spot where the pain seemed to be concentrated, finding a large bump, tender to the touch. Her eyes adjusted to the low light of the room and she searched her body for more proof that the achy feeling wasn't just in her mind, literally

The clothes she was wearing were loose, allowing her to examine herself thoroughly. Several abrasions and dark bruises mottled her shoulders, arms and legs. Along with a huge multi-colored contusion on her hip was a cut that looked like it had been rather nasty before someone had tended to it and another on her arm. Whatever she had been through hadn't been pretty - but she had survived. For some reason it felt like a miracle.

The voices returned, getting louder as they approached the room. From what she could make out, it sounded like an elderly woman and a boy - nothing to be afraid of, right?

They were talking, but she only understood some of what they were saying. They must have been speaking in a language that was not her own, but one that she was at least a little familiar with. Spanish came to mind.

The door opened and the elderly woman came in, a large ceramic bowl resting on her hips and a rag in her hand. The boy, who looked to be about twelve, carried a large quilt.

"You're awake, dear," the older lady said, startled. She had a thick accent but she wasn't speaking Spanish anymore.

"Yes. Where am I?"

"My home in Tijuana, Mexico." The woman paused, giving the injured girl's arms and face a once-over, examining the cuts and bruises. She turned to the young boy standing anxiously at the end of the bed. "Mario, traeme el botiquin de primeros auxilios, ràpido, por favor."

"Sí, abuela."

He hurried out of the room while his grandmother set the washbasin on the small wooden table beside the bed. She took the cloth and soaked it in the water before tending to the scrapes across her arm.

"Who did this to you?" the grandmother asked, sympathy apparent in her eyes.

Tears began to well up in her eyes for the first time as she replied softly. "I don't know."

"There, there. You're safe here, querida. Whoever did this doesn't know you're here so there's no need to worry."

She shook her head wordlessly and hoped that the lady was right - that she was safe from whatever unknown danger faced her.

"What's your name?"

She paused and gave the woman a blank look. "I don't know that either."

"You poor thing. Do you remember anything at all?"

She thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. It's all pretty fuzzy. All I can picture is water. And lots of it."

"Well, Mario, my grandson, found you asleep at the Sitio del Rezo inside Monumental de las Playas – the bullring. We are the caretakers. You were a little wet and very cold. He woke you up and brought you here. By the time we got you in bed, you were shaking and running a high fever."

"How long ago was that?"

"You've been asleep for twelve hours. It's around five in the evening."

"What day is it?"

"It's Wednesday, the fourteenth of February."

Even the date didn't mean anything to her. She somehow knew that it was Valentine's Day, but the struggle to produce any thoughts associated with the holiday failed.

Mario came back in with a basket filled with assorted first aid supplies.

"¿Cual es su nombre?" he asked.

"Ella no se acuerda, mijo."

"¿Como la llamaremos, entonces?"

"I don't know," the grandmother replied, looking at her curiously. "He wants to know what we can call you since you don't know your name." She paused, giving it some thought. "How about Ria? It means 'from the river's mouth,'" She turned to the boy again. "She looks like a Ria. Don't you think?"

The boy smiled and nodded, seemingly pleased.

"What do you think, querida? It's okay if we call you Ria until we can find out your real name?"

"Ria. Yes. That's nice." For all she knew it could be her real name.

"What can I call _you_?"

"Oh, goodness me. I forgot my manners," the grandmother replied as she went about applying medicine and a fresh bandage to the young woman's forearm. "I'm Rosa, and of course you already know Mario's name."

The boy smiled at Ria and gave a little wave. She responded with a small wave and smile of her own before turning her attention back to the woman.

"You English is very good."

"Yes, thank you. I worked for a family in the States for a very long time. My son - Mario's father, along with his mother, were killed in an accident. I could not leave Mario alone so I came back to Mexico to take care of him."

"That's terrible. I'm very sorry."

"Thank you," Her response was accompanied by a warm smile, laced with a tinge of wistful longing. "It was a long time ago."

It was silent for a few minutes as she watched Rosa tend to her wounds.

"Rosa," she began, breaking the silence, "thank you for everything you've done. I'm very grateful."

The older lady smiled up at her. "You're welcome. And I promise, we'll find whoever did this to you and get you back to where you belong."

Flashes began to invade Ria's mind, quick visits to the past, she presumed, but couldn't be sure. She was trapped, screaming for help, the stench of smoke so strong she could almost smell it now. The fire gave way to water and a huge wave overtook her, keeping her under and making her gasp for air. Sudden fear gripped her. What if the place where she came from and the place she was running from were one and the same?

"NO!"

Rosa stopped what she was doing and looked at Ria in shock.

"I'm sorry. Please don't tell anyone I'm here. _Please_," she begged.

The grandmother seemed to understand and laid her hand over hers, trying to reassure her as she spoke. "Ok, querida. We won't tell anyone. I _promise_. And you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

Ria breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to have a reprieve from whatever reality faced her, if only for a little while.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keith watched her move about the diner, serving coffee and bringing meals. She moved with such a Veronica-like grace, hard and determined yet soft and innocent, that he could not have imagined it if he tried. She had changed though, a certain reluctance in her stance and an even greater weariness in her eyes held the stories of this new Veronica that he was not privy to.

It was obvious to him as he watched her flitter around, making casual conversation, why she never found her way back home. His baby girl didn't know who she was, didn't know she had a home to go home to. For the first time, he realized that even though he'd found his badass action figure daughter, she might be truly lost to him forever. That saddened him most of all.

But despite everything, he wanted to proclaim to the world that she was his. Veronica Mars – beloved daughter, friend, love of someone's life, had been lost but now she was found. It was so hard for him not to jump up and shout, "That's my girl!" and clap like he did on her graduation day so very long ago.

And a tiny, immature part of him wanted his own small victory- a big fat 'told-you-so' to everyone who hadn't believed. He laid a twenty on the table for his coffee and went outside to wait for Veronica to finish her shift. He would have some splainin' to do but first he had to make a phone call. He knew who was first on his list.

Ria watched the stranger leave again, the bell sounding his departure. Some part of her wanted to follow him out, ask him who he was and why she felt like she knew him. A new curiosity replaced the expected fear and uneasiness; the man's warm demeanor had chipped away at her obligatory defenses.

He was just outside in the parking lot, talking to someone on the phone. She'd made a decision; she would leave it for the fates to decide. If he was still there when her shift finished in five minutes, she'd find out exactly who he was.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Ten years, three months earlier_

Upon coming home to the apartment and finding no note, Keith was beginning to really worry. It had been twenty-two hours since he talked to Veronica. It wasn't the first time he'd gone that long without contact, but it was the first time he was out of town while he worried away. She'd called him the day before around four in the afternoon while she was still on campus. That had been the last time he'd heard from her.

He had been off chasing a bail jumper in Arizona and had been in and out of his cell phone service area pretty much the whole time. He'd called and left a message for Veronica the evening before, letting her know when he'd be coming home and wishing her a good night. It really hadn't alarmed him until now that she hadn't called back.

Fourteen minutes and three phone calls later, Keith was no closer to finding out anything definite about Veronica. Wallace had eaten lunch with her the day before but she'd been a no-show for their standing noontime lunch date earlier that day. Of course Wallace had thought nothing of it at the time - she'd been known to skip out on him before.

It had been even longer since either Mac or Weevil had seen or talked to her, but neither had any idea of where she might be or knew of any cases she was currently working on. There was really only one person left to call.

He sighed long and hard into the receiver as he waited for the boy on the other end to pick up. Logan and Veronica were on the outs, _again_, and only Veronica's well-being could keep him from being the big bad daddy. The thought that maybe they had gotten back together again briefly flitted across his mind and a vision of Logan grinning lecherously at Veronica made his blood boil. But even if that were the case, she would be safe – at least from someone other than Logan.

"Hello?"

"Logan. It's Keith. Veronica isn't there with you, is she?"

"Uh, no. We broke up," he told Keith, sadly.

"Yeah, I know. I…" he started. What was he going to say - that he was sorry? He wasn't. "You haven't by chance seen or talked to her since yesterday afternoon, have you?"

"No, I haven't. What's going on, Mr. Mars?"

"To be honest, I don't know. I'm probably overreacting. We've probably just gotten our signals crossed or something, but I haven't heard from her since around four yesterday. I was out of town and the cell reception wasn't great, so I figured maybe she kept missing me and just didn't leave a message. Anyway, I got home today and there is no sign of her – no note, nothing," Keith told him, the worry clear in his voice.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, the police won't do anything for seventy-two hours since she's legally an adult. A lot of times they'll try to at least help a little in any way they can, but it's Lamb, and well – we can forget about any help from him."

"Whatever you need from me, you've got it."

"Thanks, Logan. I'll let you know when I get a game plan together."

Despite Keith's dislike for him, Logan Echolls proved that he was willing to go to the ends of the earth for Veronica and that was exactly what he was counting on.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_The sand was browner in the West Indies_. That was the first thought that entered Logan's mind as he relaxed on the beach watching his new wife. Of course, most of the beaches in St. Lucia were man-made, constructed simply for the enjoyment of tourists who were frittering away exorbitant amounts of money to spend their days in the sun. _Sarah's laugh was infectious_ was the second thought as he stared, smiling at her antics with a couple of local children playing soccer in the sand.

After Keith left on the morning of his wedding, he felt that familiar tightening of his chest, the memories threatening to overwhelm him and swallow him whole. He had been telling Keith the truth when he said that losing Veronica had nearly killed him and even though he knew it would be impossible to get over her completely, he'd come a long way. Sarah's capacity for love and the empathy she'd gained from her own circumstances had taught him how to be happy again. So, even in the face of the potential life-changing news his early morning visitor had brought, the ceremony had gone off without a hitch.

Married life looked beautiful on her. Logan still couldn't believe she was his. She was small and able to move the children's ball quickly yet gracefully along the grainy surface. Her lustrous, chestnut hair bounced in her high ponytail and he could almost see the sparkle in her almond-shaped eyes, completely captivating him from fifty feet away. He imagined her long black eyelashes fluttering closed as her laughter matched that of the kids. He hoped that he could keep her as happy as she was right at that moment- as happy as she made him.

He'd first met Sarah at a seminar for Families of the Missing, or FM, as they called it, nearly four years earlier. At the time, he was actively searching for Veronica and was exploring every avenue his and Keith's efforts to find her had uncovered.

Sarah's sister had been abducted at the age of three when the family was on vacation in San Francisco. One year later, when Sarah was only eight, they picked up and moved to Pacifica in an effort to be closer to the search.

The stress from the move and the constant battle of guilty feelings and the blame game had torn her family apart. Sarah had chosen to move to Portland with her father while her mother and older brother stayed in California. Later, during college, Sarah's mother had fallen ill. Stricken by her own feelings of guilt about abandoning her mother, she moved back to San Francisco to take over her care.

They'd done nothing more than talk a while; his grief, even some years later, was still palpable. She'd been a sympathetic shoulder, her own life marred with imperfections and Logan had found comfort in the story of her own loss.

Nearly six months later, Sociology degree in hand, Logan started graduate school at Stanford. He and Sarah kept in touch through email and became fast friends when he moved to the area. They shared a passion for the families they worked with and often found themselves working side by side at the Families of the Missing office in San Francisco.

Sarah's friendship had proved to be the strength he needed the following February. Keith had called and through his sobs, the grieving father had told him that the State of California had declared Veronica officially dead. It had been like losing her all over again.

A fifth of Jack Daniels had been his company that night, his accomplice in attempting to ease the anguish of an epic loss. The raw pain was too much; the memories of the days and years that followed her disappearance were coming back in full force. The constant wondering and the never-ending worry had always weighed on him heavily, and the possibility that they might _never_ know had proved to be his breaking point on more than one occasion. He'd drank straight from the bottle, wanting the burn and eventually the blissful haze the amber liquid provided.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Ten years, three months earlier_

Two days after Veronica vanished, panic and assumptions that the worst had happened were starting to sink in. Logan knew Keith was trying to be strong, playing the part of the father who had faith he would get his daughter back. Logan's past didn't afford him that luxury and the only hopeful ending he saw was in one of his father's fifty-million dollar Hollywood crap piles. Aaron would have enjoyed the irony.

The first thing Logan had done was to offer a reward – fifty thousand dollars for information leading to the whereabouts of Veronica Mars. Unfortunately, the tip line had been inundated with calls that had proved to be nothing more than a bunch of false sightings and con men disguised as altruists.

Keith had enlisted help from almost everyone, not that he'd had to do any convincing. Everyone who loved Veronica was anxious to help. Mac, Wallace, and Logan had split up on campus, talking to every student, faculty member, administrator and anyone else at Hearst. They'd talked to a few that had seen her here and there and to one person who had seen her coming out of the library around three-thirty.

Weevil, of course, chatted up the local criminal element, calling in every favor that he'd ever been owed. Even that had come up empty.

Keith had tapped every resource he knew of, contacted every member of law enforcement that he still had an in with. Any lead that came in was quickly followed, only to end in despair when it turned out to be nothing. He made sure Logan was a part of the investigation, keeping him in the loop on every piece of evidence; for that Logan was grateful.

Lamb had been little help, as expected. He had his hands full at the station. Josh Barry had been arrested for the murder of his father, the coach of the Hearst basketball team, and had escaped after being transported to the hospital for some kind of allergic reaction. Of course, being an even bigger ass than Logan thought he would be, Lamb still refused to put out an All Points Bulletin until the standard seventy-two hour waiting period was up.

Every minute since Veronica had gone missing had worn on Logan. His body had been on autopilot since the phone call from Keith and he'd focused on the investigation to keep him from jumping off the nearest bridge. He kept thinking about what Veronica would do in the same situation and he tried to mimic the calm, cool demeanor that he knew she would have displayed.

But at night when Keith sent him back to the Grand, with nothing more than thoughts detrimental to the hope that Veronica was alive and well plaguing his mind, he struggled to keep his sanity. Being numb inside was the only thing keeping him going because he if stopped to consider the facts, he could never live with the reality of what was happening. His worst fears were coming true.

He lay awake on his bed, someone's idea of a contemporary aquatic masterpiece hovering over him, and recalled a night only the week before when he'd been sulking about their break-up. Veronica had told him she wasn't going to get over the Madison thing, and for a while he'd believed her. But a couple of days later he'd convinced himself that they would never be over – that somehow, some way, they would find their way back to each other, however long that might take.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, the tears finding their way down either side of his face. Even though he'd never believed in a higher power, he found himself praying for Veronica to be alive and well. And even if they were never together again it'd be all right, at least she'd be alive.

The ringing of his cell phone broke through the silence of the suite and caused his heart to beat faster. There was only one reason why it would be ringing at that time of night - Veronica. He flopped over to grab it from atop the nightstand and held his breath as he answered.

"Hello?"

"Logan. I'm sorry it's so late, but I thought you would want to know-"

"What is it, Mr. Mars?"

"A buddy of Weevil's cousin found someone who saw Veronica up in L.A. on Valentine's Day. She says she saw her around six-ish being forced into a green car by a couple of white guys. The witness is a prostitute, but so far it's been our best lead."

"Why do I get the feeling that there is more to this story than you're letting on?"

"Logan, Weevil says the neighborhood is rough – I don't know what the hell she was doing up there by herself."

Logan wanted to tell Keith that he wasn't surprised, that it was only a matter of time before something bad came of all the stupid risks she took but he couldn't bring himself to add salt to the wound.

He heard Keith take a deep breath and he wondered what other awful news could be coming.

"There's this one guy who pretty much runs the neighborhood; he's affiliated with the Temple Street gang- an Asian gang. But that's all Weevil could find out. A buddy of mine who's in the force in L.A. has arranged for me to meet with someone in the Los Angeles Interagency Gang Task force. I'm meeting with him in the morning."

"I'm coming with," Logan told him adamantly.

"Yeah, I figured. I'll pick you up at six a.m."

The next morning Keith picked him up and together they made the drive in almost complete silence. Neither man wanted to make small talk when the fate of a certain blonde they both loved more than life was yet to be determined.

They arrived at the office of Detective Harris in record time and were both anxious to hear what he had to say.

"Mr. Mars-"

"Please, call me Keith."

"Keith, Jerry tells me you're interested in knowing about Lok Lau."

"Yes. My daughter was last seen in his neighborhood."

"Well, it's a drug-saturated community – that I can tell you. Lots of crack houses and prostitution."

"So he's affiliated with the Temple Street gang?" Logan asked.

"He was until a couple of years ago. Now he pretty much runs his own operation: theft, money laundering, supplying drugs - you name it. We're not positive where he gets his drug supply from but some evidence has surfaced regarding his brother's old cellmate. Apparently the cellmate and most of the members of his family are small time drug runners and they had some kind of deal."

"What was his name?"

Detective Harris looked through his notes before answering Keith.

"Fitzpatrick, Cormac Fitzpatrick."

Logan felt his heart drop and found himself with the sudden urge to kill a man – or several.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Before the phone call from Keith, he had been doing a good job at living, the agony buried inside giving way to a dull ache. But making Veronica's death official made it all seem so final, a definite proclamation to his heart that she wasn't coming back – that _they_ wouldn't be coming back. There would be no happy ending for them, no epic love story for the ages.

But then Sarah had called, worried when he didn't show up for work at the FM office. He could barely talk, slurring speech and random expletives in the place of normal conversation, but somehow she had understood the pertinent facts. As far as the State of California and any law enforcement agency was concerned, Veronica Mars was dead.

Logan barely remembered that night other than a blurred memory of Sarah holding him while he cried, listening while he shouted. In the morning, after the haze of his drunken stupor lifted, he'd realized was luckier than he had ever known. He had someone who truly cared about him.

It had still been a long road of grief and heartache, but Sarah had stood by him and helped where she could.

Their friendship had flourished after he graduated Stanford with his Masters. As the summer months flew by, Logan realized that the gaping, Veronica-sized hole had started to slowly close, leaving only a small crack. It was still painful, but time and a dear friend's understanding had been healing him all along.

When fall approached, Logan had started to notice Sarah in a different light; her eyes started to twinkle, her smile grew more beautiful and the urge to kiss her became unbearable. It was then he realized he was falling in love with her and the thought didn't scare him as much as it should have. Finally, after dragging his feet for two months, afraid that she'd reject him and everything would change, he asked her on a date.

"What's got that smirk on your face?"

"Oh, just thinking about the first time I asked you out."

"Which one? The when we were friends time, or..."

"The decidedly not friends time," he interjected, waggling his eyebrows.

A blush crept up her neck and across her cheeks and finished up at her ears, followed by a shy smile. "Oh. Right. It was amazing."

"The date? Or me?"

Sarah's head dropped backwards with laughter, long, wavy locks bouncing along her back. "Both. You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"I do. But you love me anyway," Logan told her with a genuine smile.

"Yeah, I do."

"Come here. You're much too far away." He reached over and pulled her chaise next to his, sliding his hand up along her chin and lightly brushing his thumb against her cheek. "_You're_ amazing, you know that?"

She leaned into him, capturing his mouth in a kiss. As he reveled in the soft feel of his new wife's lips, he didn't think he could have ever been happier.

"I'm going to make a trip to the bar, sweetie. Do you want anything?" Logan asked her.

"A beer would be nice, something local."

"You got it. Anything for my best girl," he yelled as he turned to make the short walk to the resort.

"I better be your only girl," she called after him, grinning from ear to ear, her dark-brown eyes full of playful mischief.

Logan smiled. He really didn't know how he had gotten that lucky.

As he approached the sandy stairs that led from the beach to the pool area, he saw a resort employee running towards him, his hand clutching the receiver of a phone.

His life had never been easy; that should have been sufficient warning. A sea of change was brewing and there would be no way he could have prepared for the storm that was on the horizon.

"Mr. Echolls, Mr. Echolls!!" he shouted as he came closer. "There is a phone call for you!"

Logan grumbled when he reached him, intent on ripping the man a new one.

"If I'd wanted to be bothered, I would have brought my own damn phone."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Echolls, sir. But the man says he's a policeman and that it's very important. He said that I needed to get you immediately."

Logan took the phone from him, his own fingers shaking slightly. There were only two people important enough to him to warrant an emergency phone call while on his honeymoon. One of them he just left sunbathing on the beach. The other – well, the other was supposedly dead. But these days, the only cop he knew personally was Keith and there was only one reason he would be calling him now.

Logan brought the phone to his ear and cleared his throat, bracing himself for whatever Sheriff Mars had to say.

"Logan?"

"Yeah?" he choked out.

"She's alive! My baby girl is alive," Keith declared, heaving sobs of relief.

Logan's knees dropped down to the soft sand, his whole body slouching over. It was news that his heart had ached for continuously but nevertheless was unprepared for.

One hand clutched the cordless lifeline while the other webbed across his face. Tears of joy flowed freely through his fingers and sobs of happiness ricocheted throughout his body.

Both men realized the miracle they had begged, pleaded, and most certainly would have died for had finally happened.

To Be Continued….

Comments are love and make me strive to be a better writer. So please help a girl out… pretty please? Push the green/white button : )


	3. Chapter Two

**Title**: _Searching For Life_- Chapter Two (3/?)

**Author:** LoVefan4ever (love_is_epic)

**Rating:** R

**Warnings:** Some rough language.

**Word Count:** 7103 this chapter; 15,465 in total.

**Characters/Pairings:** Logan/Veronica, Logan/OFC, Keith, various others.

**Spoilers:** Goes AU during 3x13 (Post-Game Mortem).

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of _Veronica Mars_ or its characters. I do not make any money from this.

**Summary:** Sometimes finding what you've been searching for is harder than not finding it at all; letting it go is even harder. This is a LoVe story that spans years, three-quarters of a continent and maybe a little bloodshed. They wouldn't be epic without it.

**A/N:** This is an ongoing Christmas present for vanessagalore for vm_santa over on livejournal.

**A/N2:** Many, many thanks to my good friend Sabrina who deserves the biggest hug ever for the beta and her never-ending support. You should thank her for actually making this readable. But of course, there is only so much she can do; all mistakes are mine. Also, a big thank you to Mary Scarlett and Sarah, who both kept me going through my eternal frustration with this chapter. You girls are the best!!!

*******

It had been harder to leave her life in Alabama than Veronica had thought it would be. Really, there wasn't anything for her there, her life had been purposely kept relatively empty. But the fear of the unknown awaited her in Neptune and while that had been something she'd become all too familiar with, it didn't make it any less daunting.

It took all of one week to settle her affairs, quit her job and close up her apartment, the only home she ever remembered having. It seemed almost crazy to her that she would leave everything behind to go with a man who said he was her father, but somehow, deep inside, she knew it was supposed to be.

On the day he'd shown up at the diner, he waited for her outside until she finished her shift. He'd hugged her and cried as he told her who he was, along with the story of a never forgotten daughter and his unwavering conviction that she had been out there somewhere, alive. Embraced in the arms of a stranger, she felt more at home than she had in years. Her face had been wet with tears, both his and hers, and the word Dad floated off her tongue like it had always been right there waiting for him to come and find her.

Veronica had missed the town of Neptune on her quest in California, but that didn't make it any less familiar, or at least parts of it. Her dreams had been certain of where she came from and those places she'd experienced. She didn't know if she should be scared or fascinated – not every journey she had taken during her nocturnal slumber had been pleasant. But regardless of whatever deep, dark secrets Neptune held for her, it felt like home and she would not rest until she uncovered them all.

She had closed her eyes upon entering her old room, and let the light streaming in from the colored plastic windows warm her face. When she'd opened them, the rush of familiarity had swept over her and suddenly the unexplained desire to be near the muted wash of the stained glass windows in the library made much more sense. Bit by bit, little things, distant memories and recent dreams began to click into place, and she began to see reflections of herself again, the ones that had been hidden for so long.

Her name was Veronica Mars. Finding that out had draped over her like a warm blanket, each letter fending off the cold of lost self, not knowing who she was, of not having any family or traditions to root her. For years she had floated aimlessly, always caught between wanting to find out about the past and moving forward into the future. The name felt right, comfortable; it felt like _her_. It fit over her skin like an expensive leather glove and she knew it would be her protection in the trials that would surely come.

The struggles had already begun. Even the simple things proved difficult; a blood test to prove that she was indeed alive, driver's license test, finding out the names of her friends and realizing there were even more enemies than people who loved her. People like Mac and Weevil and Wallace had shown up, offering their support, but it all seemed so empty. Sometimes she felt like she could remember them and other times she felt like her subconscious was playing tricks on her. Instead of her memory getting better, things only got more confusing as the past melded with the unknown in her mind.

Keith watched his only daughter lounge on the well-worn green couch he'd been unable to part with while she flipped mindlessly through the television stations. She settled on a half-ancient rerun of South Park, an old staple of her former life. Her feet were tucked securely underneath her, head laid against the back of the couch and it was such a Veronica thing to do that it made his heart ache. He didn't think he would ever get used to her being home, being back in their apartment, with him.

His baby girl was back in the flesh, but unfortunately he was pretty sure her body was the only thing that had returned. It was almost like living with a stranger. Her little quirks and habits were exactly the same, right down to buttering her toast with the knife facing backwards but she couldn't remember important events or people from her life in Neptune. It was hard for him to accept that she'd forgotten what it was like to be Veronica Mars.

She had been home for two weeks and Keith was at a loss for what to do or how to treat her. He had tried to get her to open up a little about her time away from Neptune or even what had caused her to leave them, but he was too afraid of the consequences to press very hard. The cop in him desperately wanted to know what had happened but the father in him wasn't sure he wanted her to remember at all.

He also couldn't tell if she was reluctant to remember or just unwilling to share her struggles with him. Neither of those options were very comforting. She _was_ still Veronica, though, which meant he was pretty sure she was keeping things from him. She may not remember exactly who she was, but she certainly acted like his daughter.

Keith was having a hard time adjusting to everything himself. He was so glad to have Veronica back, but every time he looked at her he couldn't help but feel like a failure. She had been out there all this time, lost and alone, and he didn't find her until now. If he'd just looked harder or been smarter maybe she would have been found sooner and she wouldn't have had to endure the years away from those who loved her.

The case had been, and still was for that matter, a nightmare. There were too many suspects and not enough leads. The ones they did have were usually dead ends and even the one big break they did get, seemingly connecting the Fitzpatricks to her disappearance, had turned out to be misdirection. It brought more questions than it answered, and Keith had been trying to answer them ever since.

*******

"Keith Mars. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Liam asked disdainfully.

"You son-of-a-bitch! You better tell me where she is right now, or-"

Keith's arm reached out, attempting the difficult task of keeping the younger man beside him. He turned to face him, gently pleading for patience. "Logan. Son. I know it's gonna be hard, but let me handle this."

"I'll kill him," Logan spouted vehemently.

"If they had something to do with it, then you will have to wait your turn. I would be first."

"What have I apparently done now? Doesn't have anything to do with that pretty little daughter of yours, does it?" Liam eyed Keith carefully before a vindictive smile crossed his features. "Cause I'd _like _to do something to her- she's a hot piece of ass."

Logan lunged forward, intent on choking the life right out of Liam, but Keith reached out to hold him back and issued Liam a warning in steely voice.

"Liam. So help me God, if you've harmed a hair on Veronica's head there won't be anything left of you to identify. I promise."

Liam held up his arms defensively. "Look, I don't know what kind of games you two are playing at, but I haven't even seen blondie in quite a while, let alone touched her."

"Why should we believe a lying mick like you?" Logan spat.

"You better watch your mouth, rich boy," Liam warned, his head cocked, giving Logan a calculating stare. I'm pretty sure I still owe you one and it wouldn't take a lot for me to show you what it's like to have a metal blade in your gut." He paused before continuing in a business-like tone. "I'm not dumb. Veronica Mars is trouble- she's trouble alive but especially dead or otherwise. Besides, if I wanted to hurt her, I could have easily come after her that day you pulled that gun-toting hero bullshit."

Keith looked at Logan, confused. He was sure he didn't want to know but his curiosity won out. "What's he talking about Logan? What did you and my daughter get into?"

"Your little mini-me came around where she wasn't wanted, asking questions," Liam answered. "I was just going to give her a little tattoo- free of charge, of course, until lover boy here charged in all guns-a-blazin'."

"You had her pinned down on the pool table with a tattoo needle in her face!" Logan shouted furiously, pointing at Liam. "I should have pulled the trigger right then for what you were going to do to her, you asshole!"

"Damn." Liam smirked, looking Logan right in the eye. "She must be a real wildcat in the sack."

Logan flung his fist too quickly for Keith to stop him. It in matter of seconds, the River Stix turned chaotic, the resident Fitzpatricks defending their brother and going after Logan all in one swoop. Keith managed to get between the men, pulling Logan up and away from the mass of flying limbs. Liam stood and wiped some blood off of the corner of his mouth, keeping his death glare on the young Echolls.

"Look, Liam. We don't want any more trouble," Keith started, holding up his hands. "Veronica's missing and I know you don't care about her, but I'm sure you care about your business. I will personally make it my life's mission to inform every law enforcement official I know about every move you make."

"I said I didn't do anything to her. What more do you want?"

"Information. A witness said she was last seen being forced into a green car with two white men near Rampart. We know your running drugs up there Liam. I don't care about that. I just want to know what happened to my daughter."

Liam paused a minute, staring the former Sheriff down, gauging his sincerity. "Like I said before, Veronica's more trouble than she's worth. We didn't do anything to her. I swear on my grandmother's grave."

"Why would someone say they saw her up there, then?"

"I don't know, Keith. You're the fucking P.I. We just supply a special, hard-to-find product to an old friend up there. We haven't visited him in weeks."

"Do you know of anyone who would want to make it look like you had something to do with her disappearance? Anyone who would want you out of the way?"

The elder Fitzpatrick laughed, but there was no amusement to be found. "I'm sure there's a few. Will it get you off my ass if I tell you what you want to know?"

"You have my word."

"My guess? There is supposedly some new blood in the special product I deal in. Word has it, he's big time. Been cutting us out of some deals."

"And you don't know who it is?"

"They wouldn't be alive if I did," Liam told him matter-of-factly.

Keith nodded and turned to Logan. "Come on, son. We're done here."

"You're just going to believe that lying sack of shit!?"

"Let's go, Logan." Keith faced Liam once more while dragging Logan out of the bar by the arm. "I better not find out you're lying – there are worse things than death. I will make sure you know about them personally."

Once the two men were out in the relative safety of the parking lot, Logan erupted. "I can't believe you!"

"Logan. He's telling the truth," Keith said to try to placate Logan. "First of all, I was a policeman for a very long time. I can tell when people are lying, especially scumbags like Liam. They aren't nearly as smart as they think they are. Second of all - he's right. The Fitzpatricks do a lot of bad things but they would not want the kind of trouble that harming Veronica would bring them."

"What about that day I-"

"They probably just wanted to scare her. Teach her a lesson on their terms. They've had many more opportunities to come after her if that's what they wanted," he told him before continuing. "And, Logan? If I ever hear of you or my daughter doing something stupid like that again, the Fitzpatricks will be the _least_ of your worries." Despite all his bravado, his voice wavered slightly at the end, conveying just how much he feared for Veronica.

*******

Keith had been a man consumed. He'd found the truth for so many others before, but it seemed like the harder he tried to find Veronica, the further she slipped out of reach.

He'd know in his gut that the Fitzpatricks didn't do it. It was just too easy and even they weren't that sloppy. Shortly after he and Logan had paid them a visit, Veronica's burned-out Saturn had been found mere blocks from where she had apparently been seen being forced into a green car. Three hours later, the witness, a prostitute, had overdosed. The whole thing was just too convenient and Keith couldn't help but smell a set-up.

When Lamb had met with a horrible tragedy and Keith was once again asked to take the reins as Sheriff Neptune, he had been a little hesitant. While the position would have afforded him power and give him greater access to resources, it might have hindered his ability to operate below the radar. But ultimately he knew that Veronica would want him to take the job, to restore the sacred office's former reputation for being fair and justice-seeking. He'd been Sheriff Mars ever since.

The information from the Fitzpatricks about possible new players in the crime world had taken him everywhere except closer to Veronica. It had started out as a search mission for her but countless man hours, wire-taps, and arrests later, Keith was very close to bringing down the largest drug ring Neptune had ever seen. It had all seemed so empty until Veronica was finally found. Now he had a new outlook on life and met his duties with new fervor. He was going to be bringing them down and he was going to enjoy it.

"Veronica, sweetie. That was Sacks. I have to go down to the station. He thinks he might have someone who can give us a description of that major heroin dealer we've been tracking."

"Sure Dad. I might go for a drive or something."

"Okay, but be careful. _Please_."

He walked over to the couch, leaned over and kissed her on the head.

"I will," she reassured him with a smile.

Keith felt like he could see a little bit of that old Veronica spark in her eyes. She wouldn't say it out loud, but he hoped that it meant she was determined to find out about her past. Now that she was back in Neptune and felt safe with him in their old apartment, he hoped she wanted more. He hoped his daughter wanted her life back.

*******

Veronica had been back in town for three weeks. Logan was grateful she was alive but he couldn't bring himself to go see her. Seeing her physically would make it all too real, burst the bubble of denial he'd built around himself. It was unhealthy, he knew, but he was terrified of realizing the other half of his soul was staring back at him with the same questions he'd been asking himself since that fateful phone call - _what happens now? Where do we go from here? _

Sarah had actually encouraged him to meet with Veronica and attempt to work through any unresolved issues and lingering feelings left between them. Logan had scoffed at the idea because as much as he loved his wife, she'd never experienced his and Veronica's relationship, never seen first hand the utter combustibility of something so simple as shared space between two people. He'd never seen the need to explain it either.

He may have changed over the years, worked through some roadblocks, talked about issues in therapy, but Logan knew, _he knew, _that Veronica Mars blowing back into his life like a tornado had the possibility to uproot everything. They would either fight or fuck and he didn't think he could handle the former and was positiveSarah wouldn't appreciate the second.

Logan cursed the day he and Sarah moved back to Neptune. He had been against it from the start, having been offered a teaching position in Hearst's Sociology Department, but deciding to turn it down to stay in San Francisco. It was a wonderful opportunity, one that any alumnus would be proud to have and one that would still allow him to continue his work with Families of the Missing, but he couldn't bring himself to even think about going back there.

He had no intention of telling Sarah about the job offer; he knew she would convince him to give it a shot, so he kept quiet. But, as fate would have it, they would end up in Neptune anyway. A mere three weeks after his own job offer, Sarah called him with her good news. Sarah had been offered a forensic psychology fellowship at the University of California, San Diego. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, one that she couldn't turn down just because her fiancé was afraid of his past. Besides, therapy had taught him that although his past was part of him, it didn't control him. There shouldn't have been anything for him to be afraid of. He should have known better.

*******

Veronica thought that the ocean was deceptively beautiful, dangerous to those who didn't respect it, healing to those who reached out for it. Its vast blue depths were full of life and yet full of darkness. It held more secrets than she could count, including hers, secrets begging to be heard.

The waves both soothed and terrified her but she couldn't look away. She concentrated on the constant ebb and flow of the ocean swells, counting each wave as it came in. It was mindless, something to occupy her brain besides the internal battle of not remembering and the constant strain from the errant memories and missing scenes of her life.

A shiver ran down her spine and she closed her arms around her middle. Something in the air was changing but she didn't know what it was. She closed her eyes and listened as the waves continued to pound the sand around her, letting the salty breeze assault her senses. She had been here before, she realized, as a burgeoning memory suddenly came clearly to her mind.

_The day was unseasonably warm and a rarely experienced lightheartedness floated around them. Her shoes were filled with sand, and sun-block coated her skin as she lay on the beach, affectionately watching the sexiest man she'd ever known fly high above the waves on his chariot of fiberglass. He rode in on a wave, just below its crest, balancing gracefully until it rolled over the shallow shore. She smiled at him, enjoying how thoroughly pleased with himself he looked. _

_He strode out of the water, surfboard tucked loosely under his arm, hair mussed from sea and wind, to the blanket where she was supposedly reading a book. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes told her he knew better. She been caught ogling but she couldn't bring herself to care. He leaned in to kiss her, letting his lips linger on the soft flesh of her own._

"_You're so beautiful, Veronica. I don't think you have any idea how much," he told her after pulling back, deep emotions swirling within him._

_She blushed and glanced down, suddenly becoming shy in his presence._

"_Hey, look at me." He reached over and cupped her chin, gently forcing her to look him in the eyes. _

_That moment, searching his gaze, she saw a little of what he saw. The love shining through was deep and unmistakable; it both thrilled and terrified her. Logan was nothing if not intense, but on most days she wanted to get lost in that- to get lost in him. No one had ever made her feel the way he had, no one before and she suspected that no one after would be able to challenge her feelings on love, lust and happily-ever-afters quite like Logan. Her heart was heavy with heady emotion. She loved him; no longer would she be able to deny it. It was time to let him know._

"_Logan, I…"_

_He kissed her again, and any words she had been ready to speak became lost in the passion their embrace created. He slowly lowered her toward the beach, his hand sliding up her outer thigh, the grains from the sand causing an unexpected thrill. Everything could wait until another day; she had already decided they were going to have forever._

*******

The surfing at Black's Beach wouldn't be too great this time of day but it didn't matter. The days since Veronica's reemergence in Neptune had turned into weeks and they were beginning to squeeze in on him, suffocate him with the memories, drown him in the past. He needed the calmness that a mid-morning surf could provide, willing his troubles to drift away atop the ocean swells, if only for a little while.

As he unstrapped his board off the top of the SUV, he tried not to think about the times that he and Veronica had come to this place, about the time he'd first tried to teach her to surf. It was easy to forget those things when you had convinced yourself that you'd moved on, but it was another thing all together when you were starting to realize you hadn't. After everything that he and Veronica had been through together, it was hard to keep reminding himself that he hadn't done anything wrong by starting a new life with Sarah.

Keith had told him that Veronica couldn't remember anything since waking up in Mexico over ten years ago. She remembered nothing of how she got there or any part of her life from before. It pained him to know she'd lost so much but it was probably better that way. If Veronica couldn't remember what they shared, what they were, it would be easier to forget that they had ever shared anything at all. And at least then he would be the only one living with the pain of an epic love cut tragically short.

Logan spotted her as soon as his feet hit the sand, the rush of emotions crashing into him hard, causing him to stumble, his board falling ungracefully to the ground. It was one thing to be told that his Veronica was alive and well - seeing her in the flesh was another. She stood facing the ocean, and he watched as she wrapped her arms around her middle, seemingly staving off some unseen force.

She was more than a hundred yards away but nevertheless, he new immediately it was Veronica. Neither the distance nor the years apart would ever be able to erase her from within and a familiar feeling began to take hold. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to turn around and leave before she noticed him, too afraid of what seeing her face-to-face would mean. His traitorous feet weren't interested in leaving, though, and carried him across the beach in her direction instead, the sand cool and damp between his toes.

Veronica's heart thudded wildly as she watched the personified ache in her chest travel towards her, leaving no question in her mind as to who he was. She'd found his picture stuck between her bed and the wall; her father had apologized for missing it on his clean-up duties. Her dad wanted so badly to protect her from the pain of life, trying to keep her from those things he thought she was better off not remembering. She wished she had the heart to tell him that some things she never forgot.

Her father had told her the boy in the photo's name was Logan and that she'd dated him once upon a time. The black and white photograph told anyone who cared to look that it was more than that, but her own heart already knew when she finally saw the man in the flesh. His name and face were the only missing pieces in a long-ago started puzzle, its completion still far from accomplished.

His last two steps were slow and apprehensive, but it had been too late for either of them to turn back in opposite directions, not that it would have mattered much anyway. They were always pulled back towards each other, no matter how far each of them had went. She was living proof that the obvious bond they shared would even circumvent death.

Veronica knew a confrontation between them was inevitable – from what she recalled, Neptune wasn't that big. She thought of the million things she'd wanted to say and the million questions she'd wanted to ask but they all seemed so trite, so inadequate, for the moment that was finally here.

Instead she told him the one thing that she'd hoped said it all, but at the same time, afraid it revealed too much.

"I know you," she said softly.

"Yes, you do. I'm…"

"Logan."

"You've seen pictures?" he asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

Veronica paused momentarily, deciding which part of the truth to give him. She wanted to tell him she didn't have to see pictures, that he had always been there – his name a whisper against her skin, his image a tattoo across her heart. It didn't matter that she couldn't remember everything that had transpired between them. It was stretched out along her body, laced into her every pore.

But she was afraid that was more truth than she was willing to admit to and probably more than he wanted to hear. Breaking his gaze, she nodded her head slowly before looking down at the sand, letting him know that she had indeed seen pictures.

"People have told me things, about us – well, I mean, you. They've told me things about you." She paused for a moment, looking up from the sand, smirking. "It's surprising I ever liked you at all, considering the things they say."

The weight of the moment was temporarily forgotten and Logan couldn't help but chuckle. He could only imagine the things people were saying now that Veronica was basically an empty slate they could fill any way they liked.

"Don't worry. I only half-believe them." She smiled wryly and locked gazes with him, feeling the passion that had so clearly never left.

Logan stood nervously in front of her, watching, studying this new Veronica Mars. She was the same, yet different. Her eyes were still churning with the same curiosity that had always flowed through her, her head still tilted at the same angle when she was deep in thought, but the timorous stance she affected screamed she wasn't the same girl he'd lost so long ago.

Her body seemed to be humming with the same unease coursing through his own and he resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her. It was so hard _not_ to touch her, not to pull her close and put his arms around her - his body almost shook with the effort.

He'd almost forgotten how beautiful she was. Her hair was long again, stretching down to the center of her back, resplendent and golden, having been kissed by the warm southern sun. Her cotton dress whipped about her legs in the breeze off the water, its virginal white color a bright contradiction to the muted hues around her. He had the sudden desire to take up painting, wanting to capture her image in this moment, the loving strokes of a brush on canvas being the only medium capable of doing it justice.

This Veronica was a vision of the past, an embodiment of once lost youth and innocence. She offered a glimpse into the days before Lilly's death, the days before the shocking truths came to light and their ugliness had yet to rob her of everything she had held dear.

Logan was transported back to a time of when everything seemed good and right with the world. He longed for the bliss those days provided but not for the unforgiving truth they hid. Lilly would still be alive, Duncan wouldn't have run off with his illegitimate child, but Neptune's secrets would have eventually destroyed them all one way or another.

He used to wonder what the trade-off would have been; what part of his future he would have had to give up to change the past. If Lilly hadn't slept with his father, if Aaron hadn't been an abusive bastard who started the whole chain of events, if Jake and Lianne hadn't cheated, how would have things turned out? There were many things he would gladly give up to make Neptune a different place, but Veronica wasn't one of them, even now.

Logan observed her push a couple of errant hairs behind her ear, revealing a scar. It was a long one that started on the left side of her forehead and ran down to above her temple, running along the hairline. Not for the first time, he wondered what had gone on in her life during those ten years she was gone. He wondered if she suffered as much as they did. He and Keith and everyone else who loved her had lived every hour, every day, not knowing her fate, but Logan imagined she had to live a different kind of nightmare – one where she was alone and scared.

Veronica watched him watching her and searched the recesses of her mind for memories as she took in his every movement. Her eye caught the glint of something shiny on his left hand and realized with a start that it was his wedding band.

She had been informed that Logan had gotten married to another woman, a fact that she was having a hard time wrapping her head around. It didn't make sense with what her heart was telling her, but nevertheless, Veronica knew she had to accept it. She knew she didn't have any right to feel betrayed but it was hard not to let it affect her. It was fresh and she felt it deeply; one more soul wound added to her growing collection.

The silence stretched out between them and Veronica wondered if the spark she felt just being close to him had always been so overwhelming, like any moment the intensity between them might cause the ground to shake, letting the earth open up and swallow them whole. It was dizzying, and she felt herself become unsteady, unconsciously grabbing for something to hold on to. The sound from the ocean grew louder until all she could hear was a loud rush in her ears, and the world started spinning. She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, willing herself to become calm again.

"Are you all right?" Logan asked with concern. He stepped forward and rested his hand on her shoulder.

His touch, skin against skin, feather light but grounding, steadied both her body and mind. The warmth she felt from even such a small touch was significant and she wondered how she would ever be able to let that go. Logan wasn't hers, not anymore. He loved another, and in time, she would have to come to terms with her desire to be his one and only.

She rubbed her fingers across her forehead and swallowed the remnants of panic and heartbreak back down. "I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed, I think," she told him, laughing nervously.

He gave her a reassuring smile, one that did nothing to quell the agony of her breaking heart. "I think there might be a little of that going around."

It would have been easy to get lost in his eyes, to revel in promises that had since been broken, but she was tired, tired of being of reminded of things that would never be. She wanted to leave and go home to her dad, to the one person that she knew would never let her down.

"I really should go. My dad is probably worried."

Logan wanted to stop her, tell her to stay a while- they should do some catching up. But he knew she was right; talking with her then, and maybe ever, was a bad idea. They never did too well with the 'just friends' thing, and both of them were probably too vulnerable to even try to go down that seemingly innocent road.

He realized that his hand still rested comfortingly on her upper arm and he withdrew it quickly, silently mourning the loss of the feel of her skin.

She wordlessly leaned over and picked up her sandals before walking off down the beach. He reluctantly turned to watch the former love of his life go, realizing that things had never been and would never be easy. He'd started a new life, one that hopefully meant something. He couldn't go back to the past now - not even for Veronica. She really wasn't his Veronica anymore anyway.

As Logan stood, unable to keep his eyes from the tiny white figure being swallowed up by the growing distance between them, he wondered why if all those things about moving on were true, his heart was still shattering into a million pieces. And why, instead of this being the end, his chance for actual closure, it felt like a very messy beginning, as if there were so many more lives to be ruined, so much more blood to be shed before his and Veronica's story would be over.

*******

The bar was a welcome distraction. It had been a while since he'd resorted to drowning his sorrows and an even longer time since he'd been to this particular bar. He was only halfway through his third bourbon on the rocks when a familiar face plopped down on the stool next to him.

Logan couldn't help but smirk.

"How'd you find me so fast? This must have been your first stop."

"Yeah, you're such a girl. I knew you'd be here. Besides, I think Sarah was secretly preparing for it. She had a contingency plan all laid out."

"That's my girl. Always prepared. Either I'm getting boring and predicable in my old age or she's just getting better in hers."

"You better not let her hear you call her old."

Logan snorted. "Yeah, no kidding." He paused, turning serious. "Things are pretty different than the first time we met up here, huh?"

"Yeah, they are."

*******

_Ten years, two months ago_

It had been over two weeks since anyone had seen Veronica and hope was wearing thin, if any more even existed at all. There had been no ransom demand, which was at this point the best possibility for finding her alive. Logan's mind was going crazy with thoughts of what could have happened while his heart was an open wound.

Logan had managed to stay out of the bottle thus far, but this particular day he could take no more. He stopped at the first bar he came to on his daily drive around Neptune – a habit he'd gotten into since Veronica had gone missing.

The bar was close to campus and was pretty clean considering the unruly collegiate patrons that probably filled the place on weekends. It was fairly empty now and he was grateful. He didn't want to drink alone at the Grand - lately it had been like a black hole of memories - but he didn't want to be in the company of a raging party either. He sat at the first empty bar stool he came to and got comfortable; he was going to be there a while.

Logan hadn't been there long when a guy around his age sat down a couple of stools down from him. He did a double take and realized he recognized the guy as one of Wallace's teammates, specifically the one who'd most recently been the news himself.

They sat in relative silence for a short while before Logan spoke up.

"I'd thought you skipped town."

The young man ordered another draft beer before answering Logan, his eyes still straight ahead at the bar. "I did. And now I'm back. What's it to ya?"

"Nothing. It's just that Lamb had his panties all in a wad looking for you when he could have been looking for my girl-" Logan caught himself. "My friend."

"Ah, yes, Veronica Mars. It's terrible what happened." This time he turned to look at Logan. "I'm sorry, if that makes a difference at all."

Logan watched him, gauging his sincerity. "It doesn't. But thanks, I guess."

"I don't know where my manners are. My mother would be disappointed – well, more disappointed. My name is Josh Barry," he said, extending a hand.

Logan looked down and took his outstretched hand. "Logan Echolls."

"Well, now that we got that out of the way, we can get drunk."

Logan chuckled. "Halfway there already, man. You better catch up."

A few more customers filtered into the bar while the two talked about various mindless topics. But the air around them began to get heavier and the conversation changed.

"I never met her in person, but I heard she was quite the girl. A legend."

Logan swallowed thickly. "She is," he responded, unable to refer to her in the past tense.

"Shit. I'm sorry. That's probably the last thing you want to talk about."

"No. It's okay. I have to talk about her sooner or later."

"How's the investigation going? Any idea what happened to her?"

Logan laughed bitterly. "No. No idea. No one knows, no one's seen her and the only damn lead we have is a stupid prick who likes to think being a Fitzpatrick makes you somebody."

"Do you think they had anything to do with it?"

"I don't know. Keith, her dad, doesn't seem to think so."

"And you do?"

"They're a fucking bunch of lying cokeheads. I don't believe a word that comes out of their mouths."

Josh nodded, not pressing any further. A couple of minutes later he picked up his phone to call for a ride.

"I hate to run out on you, but I've got early practice. I really shouldn't have had this much drink," he told him, laughing.

"Sucks to be you," Logan said, smirking.

"Yeah. It does sometimes," he said, getting up to go wait for his ride outside. "You know, Logan, you're not how I pictured you at all."

"And how's that?"

"An incredibly big jackass," Josh responded, smiling.

"Now I wonder where you'd get an idea like that."

Josh chuckled. "Oh, a few places. But you're actually all right."

The corner of Logan's mouth turned up as he looked at his new quasi-friend. "Yeah, well maybe I know a thing or two about being accused of a murder I didn't commit."

"I guess you probably do," he responded, shaking his head in understanding. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime," Josh asked hopefully.

"Sure."

*******

"So, Coach - why don't you tell me some stories about the wonders of collegiate basketball. Remind me about everything I missed out on by not going to any games. Take my mind off my troubles."

Josh had been at the bar that night, celebrating his first official day as the Hearst Basketball coach. It had been surprising to some that he'd gotten the job in the first place, given the circumstances with his father. Even more surprising was the fact that his biggest supporter was his father's biggest critic – Mel Stolz. Times had certainly changed for some in Neptune.

The charges for murdering his father were dropped not long after Josh had escaped from jail. His mother had found a safety deposit box with a DVD revealing his father's illness and his intention to take his own life. Josh's life had been turned upside down, but he had attempted to get back to normal as soon as he could.

Logan enjoyed hanging out with Josh but wasn't able to do it as much as he liked. They rarely ever crossed paths at Hearst and between Logan's evenings spent either with Sarah or helping grieving families, and Josh's coaching duties, most of their time was spoken for. But if anyone understood certain aspects of his life, it was Josh. He too, had been accused of a murder he didn't commit and had grown up with a father he didn't really get along with. They bonded over times they wished had never happened and memories they wished existed.

"So, I'm guessing you saw Veronica today," Josh asked, bringing him out of his short reverie.

"Yeah. Sarah told you?"

"She didn't have to."

"I ran into her on the beach," he started, taking a long gulp of his drink before continuing. "She's just as beautiful as I remember – if not more."

"And that scares you?"

"I just don't know, dude. It's like one minute I could see something inside her that I recognize, like she's the Veronica I remember and the next it was like I didn't know her at all," Logan confessed, idly playing with the bottom of his glass. "Great. Now I sound like chick. You're right. I'm a total girl."

Josh smirked. "Tell me something I don't already know."

Logan smiled despite himself before resting the palms of his hands on his forehead, elbows on the bar. "I just- I knew it wouldn't be easy, man, but I never knew it would be this hard. I loved Veronica so much…"

He couldn't continue and Josh didn't push, knowing how difficult it was for his friend. Logan was a good man and a good husband to Sarah, but he was also aware of how deeply his affections for Veronica went. Josh vowed that he would be there for him, help him though this, that whatever he had to do, he would help Logan do what he could not do himself - move past Veronica Mars once and for all.

_To be continued…_

**Many thanks to all of you who have reviewed!! Your comments are what has kept me going on this fic. I apologize if I haven't responded; I'm trying to be better about that. But please know that I appreciate all of you more than you realize : )**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**


	4. Chapter Three

**Title**: _Searching For Life_- Chapter Three (4/?)

**Author:** LoVefan4ever (love_is_epic on LiveJournal)

**Rating:** R

**Warnings:** Some rough language.

**Word Count:** 6651 this chapter; 22,016 total.

**Characters/Pairings:** Logan/Veronica, Logan/OFC, Keith, various others.

**Spoilers:** Goes AU during 3x13 (Post-Game Mortem).

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of _Veronica Mars_ or its characters. I do not make any money from this.

**Summary:** Sometimes finding what you've been searching for is harder than not finding it at all; letting it go is even harder. This is a LoVe story that spans years, three-quarters of a continent and maybe a little bloodshed. They wouldn't be epic without it.

**A/N:** This is an ongoing Christmas present for vanessagalore for vm_santa over on livejournal.

**A/N2:** Many, many thanks to my good friend Sabrina who deserves the biggest hug ever for the beta and her never-ending support. You should thank her for actually making this readable**. Also, I couldn't keep the writing up without your reviews!! Thanks so, so much to all of you who take the time to do so!**

And I really tried to make this chapter shorter for my friend and faithful reviewer, **Makane**, but it just wouldn't quit. Sorry! Maybe the next one will stay below the 5000 mark ; )

*********************

It had been several weeks since his chance meeting with Veronica. Things hadn't been any easier for him despite his constant inner mantra that he had to move on, something he'd thought he'd done years ago. But for every thought, every memory, every feeling he tried to put out of his head, there were ten more waiting to take its place.

And of course there was the guilt, not only regarding his wife, but Veronica, too. Logan couldn't help but feel that it was Veronica he was betraying instead of the woman he'd sworn to honor and obey. It was an impossible situation, and regrettably, no one involved would come out unscathed.

Logan drove down El Cajon Boulevard as he did every Thursday morning on his way to work. It was completely out of his way, but when Veronica had gone missing, he'd constantly searched old haunts, hoping that she'd miraculously turn up. When he'd moved back to Neptune, he'd picked up the habit again, almost like a reflex. Thursdays were Camelot days.

When he looked up at the familiar balcony, once the place of memories he tried far too hard to suppress, he couldn't believe his eyes. A girl - no, a woman - with long blond hair and a fitted, yellow cotton sundress stood perched against its memory-laden rails.

He whipped his car around, tires screeching with the sound of his U-turn, not caring about traffic on either side of the street and pulled into the parking lot. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached her, still unsure if she wasn't merely a mirage of his boyish heart.

She must have heard him coming, because she turned to face him, shock clearly written on her face and nervousness evident in her voice when she spoke.

"Hi."

"Hi," he responded. Logan looked at her long and hard, unable to wrap his mind around her being at _this_ place, the one that had started it all. Had she remembered or was it just dumb luck? She answered him, almost as if she had read his mind.

"It's silly, I know - me standing here. You're probably wondering what I'm doing." Veronica looked down at her dress, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles with the flats of her hands. She continued on, not waiting for his reply. "I was just driving around, trying to re-familiarize myself, and this place – I don't know. I just had to stop, you know?"

He shook his head only slightly, his eyes still rooted to the vision that embodied both the present and the past. Logan was trying hard not to jump for joy inside over the fact that maybe Veronica's memories were coming back to her. But for every good there was an even worse - for every homecoming dance there was a missing best friend, murdered in her vibrant youth, tainting every sweet romantic occasion was a reminder of virtue stolen. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to make that trade off. Despite everything, though, she was still Veronica and he knew that ultimately she would stop at nothing until she _did_ know.

She looked back up at him before she averted her eyes, flickering around to anything that wasn't him.

"Do you know why? Is this- is this about us?" she asked, staring off to the right, her hand motioning around to the walls of the motel.

The trepidation in her voice told him that she was fearful of the answer, that maybe he'd misjudged this new Veronica even more than he used to misjudge the old. She seemed just as scared to remember the past as he was for her to. Not for the first time he wished he could crawl inside her mind and fill it with only the good memories, leaving no room for the tarnished ones.

Her inquisitive baby blues turned on him expectantly and he found himself barely able to come up with an answer. It was a loaded question - it wasn't just _about_ them, it _started_ them.

Sure, maybe things had been headed that way; he'd been seeing her in a different light long before that anyway, but the second her lips had touched his, he knew there would never be any going back. Logan wished that he'd known then there wouldn't be any moving forward. Of course even if that were the case, he would have been happy to be stuck in limbo in that moment – the one perfect moment when he realized that what he'd always wanted had been under his nose all along.

He struggled for a non-clichéd answer, going over every possible reply he could think of: _first kiss- no, too simple; the day my life began – too much_. Fortunately, or maybe not so fortunately, he was saved from answering as he watched the light turn on behind her eyes.

"You saved me. Right here- you saved me," she told him, the first signs of confidence exuding from her.

Logan shifted all his weight on his back foot and ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the well-worn concrete. "Well, technically, no. He was a federal agent, so he wasn't going to hurt you."

"You didn't know that," she told him with conviction, a trust lacing her voice that he never expected to hear. If it weren't for Sarah, a new start with Veronica would look more than just appealing- a bright future with no tainted encounters from the past.

"You remember." It was as much a question at it was a statement.

"Some things."

He found her staring at him with curiosity and maybe a little bit of something else. The urge to reach out and touch her was as irrepressible as it had been during that first meeting at the beach. But this time, he found his fingers stroking the ends of her hair before he could stop himself.

"Your hair is long," he stated before pulling the traitorous hand back to his side. He itched to run it all the way through, letting the soft strands slide along his fingers, but he didn't have that right anymore.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Yeah. It was short, but then I let it grow. I can't make up my mind about which I like better. Do you- do you remember how I liked it?" she asked him innocently.

He caught her gaze, unwilling to let the moment pass them by without telling her at least _something_ - without telling her how beautiful she was or how much he had missed her.

"I think you preferred it longer, but you're beautiful no matter what," he told her affectionately, their eyes locked on each other. "I never stopped missing you, Veronica."

His confession seemed to unlock something in her. She momentarily stood frozen, a wide-eyed Bambi-esque stare replacing the innocent twinkle her eyes held only an instant ago. Her breath became heavier and she attempted to move past him, quickly darting for the stairs. But Logan was ready, had recognized the running-out pattern long before she ever had her decision made. She may have not been able to remember _exactly_ who she was, but she was still Veronica Mars. There were some things that would _never_ change and he found that to be the most comforting thing in the world.

Logan caught her by the wrist, the pads of his fingers pressed against her pulse point. He wasn't holding her tightly but he could feel her heart beating erratically and realized that she was just as affected by him as he was by her.

He slid his hand up to her elbow and gently pulled her closer. "It was our first kiss. I stopped you from leaving and pulled you close – just. like. this."

Their bodies were only a hairsbreadth away, both being pushed together by the memories of the past and the energy that one momentary thing had created between them. Veronica had always been in his heart and now she was in his arms; he realized that this was a turning point for them- or for at least him.

"It's beginning to come back to me," Veronica said breathily, her lips only inches from his, eyes glittering with recognition.

The whisper of her breath against his skin and the pounding in his chest, which had only gotten louder since he stepped on the balcony, were the only things Logan registered. It was a stimulation of the senses, a whitewash of noise, drowning out anything screaming at him to stop, to not take that next step.

The moment was too meaningful, their connection too strong; Logan found himself helpless to resist the temptation. He pulled her even tighter, wishing he could merge them, make them one so that he wouldn't _have_ to make the choice waiting in his future – the choice littered by his past and torn apart with the present.

She still smelled the same, the fragrance from her hair filling his nose. All he needed was to be able to taste her and he'd have the complete sensual experience. Oh, how he longed to devour those soft lips he'd dreamt about night after night.

Logan slid a hand up to her face and ran the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, parting her mouth ever so slightly. To hell with everything else, this moment of insanity would be his, finally giving into temptation. He tipped his head down -

It was a sign. He wasn't sure if he was incredibly relieved or terribly disappointed when his cell phone rang, effectively putting to rest any adulterous intentions on his part. Logan sighed in resignation looking at the caller ID. i_Sarah/i._ He closed his eyes and let the guilt wash over him. When he opened them again, Veronica was gone.

**********************

"Hey, Keith. The hospital just called. The Gallo kid died last night."

Keith sighed heavily. "Thanks, Sacks. It's a shame. We've got to do something about these bastards." Sacks silently agreed before the Sheriff spoke again. "Get D.A. Carr on the phone and arrange to have Lenny Russo brought here to the station. Maybe if he's facing murder charges he might be more willing to cooperate."

"Sure thing, Sheriff."

After Sacks left his office, Keith leaned over on his desk and put his head in his hands. He felt wholly responsible for David Gallo's death. The kid, only nineteen, had been known for running with a big-time local drug dealer named Lenny Russo. He'd been calling the tip line for weeks, leaving messages about a man he swore murdered his brother. One of the deputies had followed up but David's brother, Mannie, had died of an overdose. There was no foul play involved.

Things changed when David informed the Sheriff's Department that he could identify one of the main drug kingpins they'd been tracking for years. Sacks had set up a time for him to come in and work with a sketch artist but he'd never made it. They'd found him later that day half-dead, shot in an alleyway notorious for drug activity from Lenny Russo's crew. Keith wasn't going to make another mistake; he'd immediately brought Russo in on drug charges, hoping he'd confess to the shooting, too.

A few hours later, Brady Carr, who was Balboa County's most promising Assistant District Attorney, arrived at the station and the Sheriff left his office to welcome him. Ever since Brady had arrived in Neptune three years ago, Keith had taken a liking to him. The young D.A. was empathetic and idealistic, just as he had been when he'd first joined the justice system.

They'd become fast friends when Carr had taken an interest in Veronica's case. And with her return, Brady seemed to be even more driven to find the truth. Of course, Keith was convinced that at least a small part of that was due to deeper feelings on the young man's part. His concern went past professional involvement; he truly cared about her. Despite all the circumstances revolving around her disappearance and return, Keith couldn't say it bothered him greatly; he could definitely do worse than Brady Carr as a son-in-law.

After going over the particulars of how they would handle the interrogation, the two men went into the room where the newest prison transfer was waiting.

"You say you didn't do this, Lenny. Give me one good reason to believe you," Keith started off, cutting right to the chase.

"I just didn't, okay?"

Keith slammed his hand down on the metal table, instantly losing his patience. "You're going down for this, Lenny. I will make sure of it. If you didn't do it, then you know who did. Just picture _them_ sitting around living the high life while you're rotting away on death row."

"Look," Lenny started, somewhat taken aback at the normally calm sheriff's demeanor. "I don't know for sure who did it but I _might_ have an idea. I'll tell you if you let me walk."

"Walk? We arrested you with enough heroin to supply an entire city block, not to mention you're the main suspect in a murder. You're not going anywhere for a really long time," Carr interjected.

Lenny leaned over, carrying on a short conversation with his court-appointed attorney. When he finished, he looked resolutely at Keith. "What if I told you it was the same person that had something to do with your daughter's disappearance?"

Keith lunged across the table and grabbed the prisoner's shirt, jerking him up out of the chair. "If you know something about Veronica you better tell me, or so help me God-"

"Keith! Keith!" Brady yelled, trying to get his attention. "Let him go. He's just trying to push your buttons. There is _no way _he knows what happened to Veronica."

"Oh but I do," Lenny retorted. "I know who drove her car up to L.A. and set it on fire."

Keith reached across the table again but this time Brady was faster and restrained the angry father.

"All right, Mr. Russo. You've got our attention. Please tell us what you know about Miss Mars," the D.A. told him.

"I want a deal. I won't talk without one."

"Okay. Six months for the drug charge, credit for time served. Take it or leave it."

Lenny thought for a moment and again leaned over to converse with his lawyer.

"My client will take the deal, and, in addition, his criminal actions during the incident in question will not be held against him."

Keith looked at Brady and the two men came to a silent agreement. "Deal. Now just tell me what happened to my daughter."

"I don't know his real name but they call him the Clean-Up man. I'm not even sure of who he works for but whoever he is, he's big time - must supply the whole west coast with drugs."

"How do you know that?"

"Cause he's got his hand in everybody's pie. So anyway, I get this call one day, from Mannie – told me he was on his way to score some big time heroin, the good shit, too, he said."

"Mannie Gallo, David's brother," D.A. Carr clarified.

"Yeah, right. So anyways, he tells me that he's in this silver Saturn he'd hotwired at Seacoast Overlook and was following some dude to L.A. He said that all he had to do to get the drugs was to torch the car in some vacant lot. Mannie said the dude promised our competition would go away, too, if he kept his mouth shut about it."

"Just like that," the Sheriff stated, incredulous.

"I guess – whatever. Like I told you, he's big."

"Did he see Veronica?" Keith asked.

"Nope - just her car, which at the time, neither of us knew was hers. So later that day, when I supposed to meet Mannie to get the goods, I find him overdosed on the stuff."

"Why didn't you share any of this with the police?" asked Brady.

"Like I'm gonna make it easier for you to lock me up. No way."

The wheels in Keith's mind were already turning, desperately trying to make some kind of connection. "Darren Gallo was barely ten at the time his brother died. Why would he think that Mannie's death wasn't an accident?"

"Shit if I know. Mannie had always made me swear by his mother that I would watch out for the kid if anything ever happened to him. These past couple of months or so, I haven't seen so much of David, though. He got himself a good job over at Stolz Industries. Mannie always knew he'd make something out of his life one day."

"Have you ever had any contact with this Clean-Up guy as you call him?" Carr asked.

"No. But Mannie was right- our competition did go away."

Keith studied him closely before asking, "How far does your turf go, Lenny?"

Lenny thought for a moment, clearly reluctant to answer, but due to the Sheriff's warning glare, decided to comply. "From Vega down to the Hearst Campus."

Keith nodded, lost in thought. "You got your deal, Lenny, but if I find out you had anything at all to do with David's death, I promise, I'll come after you."

"Look. I cared about that kid. I really did- I hope you catch who did this, cause me and my crew didn't have nothing to do with it."

With that, Keith exchanged an understanding glance with Carr and walked out of the interrogation room.

"Sacks!" he called. "Get me the cold case file for Emmanuel Gallo."

"Yes, sir."

The Sheriff returned to his office with the file, opened it up and began searching through the various pages. When Mannie's death had occurred, Keith wasn't the Sheriff yet and by the time he replaced the deceased Don Lamb, there was no reason to suspect his death was anything other than an accident. But there, staring up at him from the toxicology report, was a very familiar sight. The drug cocktail that Mannie overdosed on was exactly the same as the prostitute who'd claimed to witness Veronica's kidnapping up in L.A. He didn't even have to look at the other file - he knew it by heart.

It wasn't a smoking gun by any means but it was definitely a start. He had a murderer to catch and hopefully with it would come the answers he'd been searching over ten years for.

**********************

"Hello?"

Logan paused, still groggy from sleep, waiting for the person on the other end of the phone line to say something. He got up from his warm bed and moved out of the room, not wanting to wake his sleeping wife.

"Hello? Who is this and why are you calling me so late?" he asked, irritation tingeing his voice. "You better say something or-"

"It's me," the female voice finally responded. Her voice was soft yet thick, like she'd been woken from sleep as he had. "Hey. I'm sorry."

"Veronica? Is there something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

It had been almost two months since the incident at the Camelot – since he almost cheated on his wife. Logan hadn't seen or heard from her in that time, and he was just a little bit grateful. He thought he would have had better resolve, after all it'd been more than ten years. But he'd obviously misjudged their connection, simply chosen to ignore the fact that epic never went away.

"No. Not really," she paused slightly. "I'm sorry woke you up. I'll go."

"Veronica. Don't hang up, please," he searched for something to say to keep her on the phone. "It's good to hear your voice."

She sighed with what sounded a lot like relief but didn't respond back.

"Are you okay?"

Now, that was a loaded question if Veronica had ever heard one. She was not okay, not by a long shot. She had awoken in the middle of the night with a horrible dream, one she didn't have as often, but the one that always shook her more than any others. As with everything else in her life these days, it was hard to tell the difference between dreams and reality. Usually she was able to gloss over the fear and store the images for later but this time, it was different. New sights and sounds had emerged and it shook her to her very core.

She had been scared and somewhat confused. She reached for the phone and dialed his number before she even realized what she was doing. It was like a reflex, and she wondered how many times she'd done the same thing. Veronica was grateful that she had programmed it into her phone when she'd run across the number a couple of days ago, long forgotten, on the cork board by the landline.

"I'm not sure," Veronica told him honestly. "I had some… visions. I don't know whether they're real memories or not. They seem like it, but really, it all seems to be lost in translation."

"Have you talked to your Dad?"

She laughed half-heartedly. "Somehow I doubt they'd be things he would want to hear. And to be honest – I kind of get the feeling that he wouldn't know anyway."

"And I would?" he asked gently.

"Maybe." He could hear the hesitation in her voice before she continued. "I'm not entirely sure, but I get the feeling that if anyone would know, it would be you."

Logan's throat developed a large lump. This Veronica _was_ his Veronica, and yet she was still so different. Her current openness was something he would have given anything for so long ago. Now that she'd shown it, though, he realized its price had been far too high.

"Logan?"

"Meet me somewhere."

"Now?" she asked

"Yes, now."

"I don't think that's…"

"Please, Veronica," he begged.

"Okay. Sure. Where?"

"Blacks Beach," he replied. Do you know where that is?

"Yes, I think so. Give me few minutes and I'll be on my way."

"Be careful," he told her as he hung up the phone.

Logan found his tennis shoes quickly and put them on.

"Where are you going?"

Sarah's voice startled him. He wanted to lie, to tell her a client needed him, that he needed a late night run – something other than he was going to meet Veronica, alone. He thought better of it, though. Sarah had been nothing but wonderful since they'd found out Veronica was alive. She deserved the truth.

"I'm going to meet Veronica," he told her, looking her in the eyes. "She called a couple of minutes ago and she's remembered some things." At Sarah's incredulous slant he continued. "Look. I know this is a lot to drop on you and you've been more than understanding. I really don't have the right to ask anything else of you, let alone ask you to be okay with me leaving in the middle of the night to meet my ex-girlfriend."

Logan exhaled, resigned to the fact that Sarah deserved to know everything, no matter how painful. "But I am asking you. I need to be there for her. I'm the only one who can give her the answers she needs, the only one who can fill in a lot of the gaps. And more than that- she needs me. She was there when I needed answers, when I needed the whole truth and I want to do the same for her."

He watched as Sarah absorbed everything, expecting her to lose her temper at any second. She surprised him, though, just like she always did. Logan wondered how she could continually amaze him without him expecting it. He dropped his head, abashed. Disappointment in relationships had always been his default setting, but the beautiful, patient woman before him had slowly showed him that it didn't have to be that way.

Sarah reached over and placed her hands on either side of his face, pulling it up, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Logan," she admonished gently, "You're a good man. You do what you feel you need to do and I'll be waiting when you get back. I love you and I trust you."

Logan felt his heart swell, so very thankful for his wonderful wife. He was immediately deeply ashamed for the events of the Camelot, for even thinking about Veronica as more than a friend, for wishing that things could have been different. Sarah was the best thing that ever happened to him and he didn't want to forget that – he wouldn't forget that again.

All the emotional turmoil from Veronica's return had left him dangling in some kind of uneven balance, but he knew Sarah would be the one, had always been the one, to ground him. She was his center, his north star, the person that helped him make sense of the constant upheaval that was his life.

Twenty minutes later, Logan found himself at the beach anxiously waiting for Veronica to arrive. A million thoughts were running through his head – what things had she remembered, why had she remembered them, were they about him, about them? Did she remember how cruel he had been to her once upon a time? Did she remember how much he had loved her?

It was as if a great shift had occurred, his mind suddenly on all things Veronica, his heart aching to see her again. Just the thought of being near her erased all the promises he'd made himself, he'd made about his future. It was as if he were two different men, his heart belonging to two different women. He was sure the tug of war would eventually tear him apart; it was already beginning to.

He was lost in thought when she approached.

"Hi," she said, startling him slightly.

Logan tried to contain his happiness at the sight of her, still in pajamas, one pigtail sticking out farther to the left than the other. Her white tank top fit snugly against her body, riding up slightly, the waistband of her Smurfette sleep pants visible. It was obvious that she, too, had been in bed before her late-night dialing.

"Hi," he replied, the grin covering his whole face despite his best efforts.

Veronica returned his smile with equal fervor, before looking down at the sand, kicking it with her feet. Despite their initial giddiness, he could tell she was nervous. Logan couldn't say that he blamed her; he was feeling it, too.

Her head tilted towards him, and, for the first time since her valiant return, he saw something different in her eyes -a new realization of him, like for the first time, she saw him exactly for who he was. It was if what she remembered of her past was finally catching up with what she knew to be in her heart, their history merging with the lasting feelings between them. Of everyone in his life, Veronica knew him best, despite the fact that she'd been missing from it for the last ten years.

The silence stretched out between them, but it was not uncomfortable. Their surroundings provided suitable noise; the waves splashing against one another, the water ultimately slapping the rocks. It was if they both unconsciously ached for the solace this night could provide, the comfort only found in each other.

"So you wanted to ask me some things?" He broke the tranquility of the moment, thinking it was best get it all out in the open. It was one of the things that years of therapy and helping others had taught him.

"Yeah. I did." Her head again dropped to study the sand. "I had this dream. It was… it was bad. I just really needed to know if it was true. I've had it before, but I couldn't ask anyone about it then." Veronica paused to clear her throat. "Anyway, I need to know if it's real or if I'm going crazy." She laughed a little hesitantly. "I'm not sure which I would prefer right about now."

Logan nodded his head, urging her to continue.

"So, I'm locked in this little space – it's white, I think," she hesitated before swallowing thickly, trying hard to be brave. "I'm scratching at the roof of wherever it is I am but can't get out. Then there is smoke everywhere, and… I'm scared - terrified actually, but in my mind, I keep thinking about you, wondering if I'll see you again. Does any of that sound familiar?" Veronica asked timidly.

His feelings were conflicted as they'd been so often lately. The pain from her remembering the past went both ways as he was forced to relive those same horrible events along with her. He'd longed to forget the night his father attempted to eliminate Veronica like he'd done with Lilly, but he kept reminding himself she needed the truth. If he didn't tell her, he knew she wouldn't rest until she found it. And really, they both could probably use a little peace.

"When you found Lilly's killer - my Dad - he was Lilly's killer. When you found out, he locked you in a freezer and set it on fire. Your Dad saved you. He kept my father – Aaron - from hurting you," he told her, anguished.

As if she could sense Logan's self-deprecation starting before her very eyes, she leaned over and placed a comforting hand on his cheek.

"Hey. It's not your fault and whoever Aaron was, you're not him. You said he was your father, but I know that you couldn't do anything like that… you couldn't be anything like him," she told him with conviction.

Logan managed a small smile, touched by her faith in him even when she wasn't sure of her own proof. Veronica dropped her hand and looked him in the eyes.

"There is something else," she told him softly.

"What is it?"

"I have this other dream sometimes - I actually had it tonight. I'm at this party, drinking, I think, and then just… I can't remember. But I wake up missing my underwear."

Logan's worst fears had been confirmed. He had to tell Veronica the truth about that night at Shelley's party. Of all the things she could remember, he had hoped that would have been the last. Really, it would have been better if she hadn't remembered it at all.

"I can't- I don't think I can tell you what you want to know," he told her gently.

"Why? In my dream you are there. Why can't you tell me?" she asked, the desperation for the truth starting to come out.

"Because, Veronica. You don't want to know, not really. Believe me when I tell you that you're better off _not_ knowing," Logan told her, raising his voice slightly.

"_Please,_ Logan," she pleaded, "You have to tell me. I have to know if these things bouncing around inside my head are real, if they're my memories, or if I caught them off some bad teenage movie. Why won't you just tell me?"

"I'm afraid you'll hate me," he whispered, his face scrunched in pain.

"Why would I hate you?"

"I did some things. I wasn't – I wasn't a very nice person to you after Lilly died, and I was responsible for some very bad things that happened. If I tell you now then you'll never talk to me again – hell, you'll never be able to _look _at me again," he told her, anguished.

"That's impossible," she assured the noticeably hurting man before her. She reached forward and took his hand, placing it directly over her heart. "I obviously forgave you a long time ago, or you still wouldn't be here."

Right then, the only thing that mattered was the pounding of Veronica's chest against his palm. He realized the enormity of what she was trying to tell him. Her heart was in his hands.

"I trust you."

It took him a moment to register her words, for the syllables to make it through to his brain, to overcome the multitude of emotions still coursing through him. Even then, he was unsure of what he heard.

"What did you say?" he asked confusedly.

"I said - I trust you."

Logan almost wept. On top of everything else, it was too much to realize those words from Veronica's lips meant tens times more than the same ones from his wife's only hours earlier. If he didn't know it before, he found the sudden clarity right then. He would never be able to love _anyone_ the way he loved Veronica Mars. She was buried deep in his soul, burrowed under his skin and spread out across his very being. He concluded that even though she was different, she would _never _cease to be _his_ Veronica.

He swallowed hard, and tried to concentrate on the feel of her small hand holding his much larger one in place, the feel of soft cotton against his fingertips. His nervousness bubbled up from inside as the tension built, spreading across his skin like wildfire. He swallowed thickly and prepared for the worst.

"There was a boy named Cassidy. He was Dick's brother, a friend of mine. He was… messed up." Logan looked away, steeling himself to get through the rest of the horrible story. "You had gone to a party and your drink got dosed with GHB by accident. You ended up passed out in one of the rooms." He stopped and took a breath, deciding exactly how much to tell her. He would skip some details now, but later when the worse was over, he'd tell her the rest. "Cassidy- we called him Beaver - he… he raped you," he told her in a pained whisper.

The words had been harder to get out than he'd ever imagined and he wondered how Veronica had lived with the reality of the innocence that had been ripped from her. He risked a glance in her direction only to find her looking out at the water. Her fingers tightly curled around his hand, still resting over her heart. What began as her means to comfort him, her desire to give him strength as he shared the truth, was now providing her own.

"Later, we found out that he had been molested by his little league coach, Woody Goodman, who was, at the time, the town supervisor. Cassidy blew up a bus with some of our classmates on it to keep that secret, but you put it all together and found out what he'd done. You always figured it out," he told her, a slight wistfulness in his tone. He blew up the plane that Woody was on too, before committing suicide."

It all sounded so cold, so calculated, in his head. He had to wonder about all those people that lived by those words – 'the truth shall set you free.' Logan certainly didn't feel very free and he'd just arranged for one of the two people he cared most about in the world to be bound in an eternal prison of her very own.

It startled him a bit when Veronica dropped his hand, and the overwhelming loss he felt was immediate. She stepped back a couple of steps and Logan could sense the change in her despite the distance she'd put between them.

"The car alarm." Veronica whispered, horrified. At Logan's confused look she continued. "At night I wake up - my sheets soaked with sweat and my eyes filled with tears and I never know why. The only thing I can ever remember is a car alarm. It keeps going off, the constant blare haunting me until I can finally fall back asleep. But now I remember. We were on the roof of the Neptune Grand." She paused for a moment before continuing, clearly distressed. "That feeling when I realized he raped me – I was so…" she trailed off, lost in thought.

"And then he blew up that plane that Woody was on and I thought my dad was on it too." Large tears began to spill over onto her cheeks but she made no effort to wipe them off. She continued on. The breakthrough obviously important and he wasn't going to stop her. "And you- Cassidy was going to shoot me but you put yourself in the way instead." Veronica's eyes swirled with emotion, searching his, before lowering her chin to her chest and saying softly "You were always there, whenever I needed you, you were always there."

Drawing on inner strength she kept going, her voice more sure. "I remember wanting to shoot him – I wanted him dead so bad. He'd raped me and I'd thought he killed my father but you kept me from pulling the trigger. You kept me from becoming like he was." Veronica raised her head to look at him, her face twisted in agony. "But then Cassidy walked backwards off the roof and I remember being so glad. I was _glad _he was dead. I was so, so glad he was dead," she repeated, her breath ragged, the tears flowing rapidly.

Logan found his heart shredding with each memory she relayed in her own words. He wanted to say something- _anything,_ but he could only shake his head in agreement. He watched, pained, as the faint moonlight reflected off the wetness on her cheeks, the anguish on his face surely matching hers. He couldn't wait any longer to touch her, though. Stepping forward, he reached out only to have her turn and run off into the darkness, obviously not caring if it was water or sand her feet fell upon.

He ran after her, determined to make her see that she wasn't alone, that she'd be with him this time, just like she was the last. His long strides allowed him to catch up with her, but they were still not quite quick enough. He was still a few feet away when she tripped and fell into ankle deep water, head falling into her hands.

Logan rushed over, dropping ungracefully into the frothy water beside her, and slid a shaky arm around Veronica's small hunched frame. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but the truth was he was shaken, too. His world felt so unsure, as if the earth's axis had tilted and everything was sliding around, looking for solid ground.

Loud consuming sobs began to come from the tiny blond kneeling alongside him, causing her whole body to shake, and he found himself watching helplessly as she started to dry heave, the overwhelming grief manifesting itself physically. Logan did the only thing he knew to do - the very same thing he'd done that night on the roof, a mirror of her own actions from a night at the Sunset Regent. He rubbed soothing circles along her back and whispered to her soothingly, assuring her that he was there, that he would always be there.

It was so painful to witness the girl that had always been so strong fall apart before his very eyes. He patiently waited for it to subside and then he pulled her into a powerful embrace, determined that no one, not even him, would ever hurt her again.

_To be continued…_

**Reviews are greatly appreciated!! Thanks for reading : )**


	5. Chapter Four

****Warnings:** **This should be read by people age 15 and older. This fic will deal with more mature content from here on out!** What can I say? Logan and Veronica had real potty mouths this time around.

**Title**: _Searching For Life_- Chapter Four (5/7)

**Author:** LoVefan4ever (love_is_epic on LiveJournal)

**Rating:** R

**Word Count:** 6222 this chapter; 28,238 total.

**Characters/Pairings:** Logan/Veronica, Logan/OFC, Keith, various others.

**Spoilers:** Goes AU during 3x13 (Post-Game Mortem).

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of _Veronica Mars_ or its characters. I do not make any money from this.

**Summary:** Sometimes finding what you've been searching for is harder than not finding it at all; letting it go is even harder. This is a LoVe story that spans years, three-quarters of a continent and maybe a little bloodshed. They wouldn't be epic without it.

**A/N:** This is an ongoing Christmas present for vanessagalore for vm_santa over on livejournal.

**A/N2: **Sorry about the long wait! I have tons of reasons why but I'm sure you don't care – you just want to read ; ) My beta, afrocurl is absolute perfection. She made this readable in like one day. So, a big, fat, THANK YOU to her is in order. The rest of the mistakes are all mine. Also, I'd love to express my gratitude to p2880 who is the quickest first reader ever. I can't tell you how much I value her honest opinions and encouragement.

**Of course I can't thank enough, those of you who kept reviewing and didn't let this fic get lost in the shuffle. It's your motivation that I credit for this chapter!! So keep up with the reviews! Thank you! **

**A quick, simple summary of the story if you don't want to go back and re-read:** Veronica goes missing around February of their freshman year at Hearst. Keith and Logan keep the hope but after seven years, Logan finally gives up hope that she is alive. He moves on and marries Sarah. During their honeymoon, he gets the call from Keith telling him that Veronica is alive, but has amnesia. She doesn't much of anything.

Since Veronica's return, they've all struggled with the implications of her arrival home. Veronica and Logan have had several awkward interactions that have served to remind both of them that it's long from over between them. Logan has tried to stay faithful, but despite his mantra that he has moved on, he clearly hasn't. The last time our two epic lovers met, Veronica had a breakdown on the beach. Now on with the story…

*****

*******

*****

The years had hardly endeared Neptune's stuffy elite to Logan, but unfortunately, they were a necessary evil when you needed to promote a charity. Nothing spelled worthy cause to the upper crust like fancy parties and high profile photo-ops. Logan was counting on that very thing, however, as he presided over his Summer Lights Charity Gala, hoping to raise an obscene amount of money during the evening for _Families of the Missing_.

The Enbom family had been so gracious as to lend their expansive estate to the cause, and if Logan could help it, quite a bit monetarily, too. Their sprawling property backed up to a bluff overlooking the ocean with hardly any slope at all. It created the perfect place for the two large white tents that served as temporary ballrooms where the guests gathered.

No expense was spared on the inside of the extravagant domes. Chandeliers hung low from the ceilings, white tablecloths and elegant silver centerpieces adorned numerous round tables. A small orchestra played soft melodies in the slightly smaller of the two tents, allowing for dancing well into the night on the spacious, square parquet floor.

He'd spotted Veronica the moment she'd walked into the reception area, looking as stunning tonight as she ever had. Her long hair was pinned up, soft tendrils curled down around her face and her navy blue evening gown was a striking contrast to her exquisite milky skin. The front of the dress plunged low into a deep vee, teasing him with a view of the valley between her breasts, begging him to remember what it was like to taste her there.

She was walking temptation, and he was desperately trying to forget that Veronica wasn't _the_ woman in his life. He had a wife - a beautiful, kind and talented wife. Ever since that night at the beach a few weeks ago, though, he'd found it to be harder to ignore their connection, their need for each other. He _was_ trying, but a man could only take so much. He wondered if Veronica had the same quandary, if she had any clue of the torture she was unwillingly putting him through.

Much to his chagrin, Logan realized he wasn't the only man in the room keeping sight of Veronica. His old friend sidled up beside him, oblivious as always to Logan's innermost reflections.

"Dude, your ex is looking hot. Mind if -"

John Enbom was cut off quickly. "Yes. I do. Stay away from Veronica," he warned, unsmiling, a sliver of unstrained anger flowing the surface. Logan's shoulders were tense, the emotional rollercoaster of the last few months beginning to catch up with him. He knew it was going to be a long night.

John faced him with his hands up, palms out defensively. "All right- I get it, man. Mars is off limits. Duly noted."

A moment of awkward silence went by as once again, the two men turned their attention to the tiny blonde across the tent. Veronica was nothing if not intoxicating and Logan couldn't take his eyes off her. His thoughts strayed to last time they were intimate, so long ago now, but like yesterday in his mind. He fidgeted, attempting to repress the familiar ache that surfaced when he yearned to touch every inch of her.

Logan watched as Brady Carr, the wannabbe knight in shining armor, approached her from behind and leaned over to whisper in her ear. Veronica seemed at ease, a warm smile on her face, her head tilting back in laughter. Her companion's hand slid down to the small of her back, caressing small openings of naked skin along the way.

As he observed their interactions, he noted with great displeasure their obvious level of comfort with each other. It was so intimate, so sexual, and Logan's blood boiled. Rationally, he knew he had no claim over her but it didn't stop him from trying to keep all members of the opposite sex away. He told himself that it wasn't because he was jealous, that he only Veronica's best interest at heart but it by now it all seemed so trite.

"So, what's up with her and that lawyer guy?" John inquired, startling Logan who'd forgotten he was there.

"They're just friends," he replied succinctly.

John snorted. "Right. Well if he ain't hittin' it yet- he definitely wants to."

Before he knew it, his irritation got the best of him and Logan had him by the lapels of his tuxedo. "Shut. Up. John." The flicker of fear in his friend's eyes caused him to deflate, releasing his hold. Logan pulled at the material straightening the suit coat, embarrassed that he'd gone that far. As always, the progress he'd made seemed to go down the drain whenever Veronica was near.

Despite his anger, though, he knew John was right. There was no doubt in his mind that Brady Carr wanted Veronica and he'd be damned if he'd let that happen. She was still trying to get her life back on track and she didn't need an entitled rich kid like Carr trying to put the moves on her. Brady could dress it up all he wanted with his fancy lawyer talk and faux sensitivity but Logan knew punks like him, hell, he _had been _a punk like him. He would have a talk with him – let Brady know to keep away, that Veronica was off limits.

He wasn't even there but news in Neptune had always traveled fast. Logan had dismissed Brady Carr the moment he strolled into town with his Ivy League education and altruistic view of the world. He thought he could change the world one small case at a time and when Logan found out about his side work, he loathed him for finding Neptune to do it in.

Brady had taken an interest in the missing daughter of the Neptune Sheriff one night after a poker game with Cliff. The stories of her resilience and courage had apparently captured the young attorneys attention. It didn't hurt to have the Sheriff on your good side, Logan supposed. Shortly thereafter, Brady had begun helping Keith with Veronica's case wherever and whenever he could. Even though by that time, Logan had been in San Francisco for quite a while and had clearly moved on, it had hurt watching some other guy do the same thing from which he'd repeatedly reminded himself he'd moved on.

"It's hard to be the understanding wife when your husband is looking at another woman like that," the voice whispered in his ear. Sarah chuckled nervously and Logan hated the underlying insecurity he could hear in her voice - hated that he was the one to put it there.

"Sorry. It's just that…"

Sarah reached out and took both of his hands in hers. "Hey, it's okay. You're worried about her- it's hard to turn those things off, I know." She paused a moment before catching his gaze, and for the first time, Logan caught a glimpse of something simmering just below the surface. There was a pleading in her eyes but he swore he saw a little jealously and anger, too. "But you've got to let her move on Logan. You've moved on and you're happy- at least I hope you are."

He was probably just imagining those things but even if he wasn't, Sarah was the kindest, most patient person Logan had ever me. He was so wrapped up in the drama that had always followed him and Veronica to notice that she was hurting, too. He'd certainly given her more than one occasion to feel that way.

He pulled her close, and dropped a kiss on her forehead in the most intimate of gestures. "I'll never figure out why you put up with me the way you do."

"I'm here for you Logan. Anything you need, I'm right here," she told him resolutely. He searched her again for any hint of resentment, but found none. If it was there, she'd quickly hid it.

"It's been…" he trailed off, searching for something meaningful to say, something to assure her. "I know things haven't been the best lately. Difficult is an understatement. But, please, just stick by me? I don't deserve it, believe me, I know. Love me, that's all I ask," he sighed against her hair.

"Well, I actually think it's pretty easy seeing as I already do. And will forever."

With his wife fitted securely in his embrace, Logan thought that maybe the evening wouldn't be so hard after all. Of course as soon as those words came to his mind, he felt a familiar gaze upon him, the constant reminder of one step forward, two steps back.

When he looked up and in the direction of where Veronica had stood, she was gone. He didn't know if that made him relieved or left wanting. One thing he did know, though - it was a bad idea, but he was going to have a talk with Brady Carr.

For Veronica, every day small memories were coming back to her - little things here and there: feelings, people, places all made appearances in and out of her mind. Except for the dreams she'd told Logan about, though, she hadn't told anyone. The pain of everyone moving on without her was just too great for to bear - at least everyone but her father. How could she tell them all that she remembered and it was far more painful than forgetting ever was?

She had heartbreakingly watched Logan with his wife from across the room. They seemed to be so in love. When he'd placed a kiss on Sarah's forehead, the small hole in her chest become large enough that she physically ached from it. She tried so hard to keep the feelings she had for Logan at bay, willing them to stay hidden in the depths of wistful memories and the dreams of a mostly forgotten girl. But despite her efforts to move into a future of her own making, her body ached to be the one under Logan's lips and her mind screamed that he was being unfaithful to her.

Veronica had always thought their love was special- at least that's how it felt in her dreams. How was it possible that he could give his heart to another? It was ironic - for all her remembering, she wished more than anything that she could forget like he had. How had he done it? She _had_ to know so that one day, maybe, she could do the same thing.

In the haze of mental chaos that always surrounded her, she found herself wandering the grounds of the Enbom Estate, taking in the grounds with its opulent pool and intricate stone enclosure. Soft lanterns adorned the brick walkways and the breeze off the ocean wafted the music from one of the beautifully imposed tents. The lush green landscaping was meticulously cared for, no doubt by immigrant workers making barely enough to feed their families.

Her thoughts strayed to Rosa and her grandson, Mario, remembering how kind they were to her. Veronica hated to leave them without saying goodbye, but she had no choice. She somehow felt like she was putting them in danger by staying at their home.

So she'd left Mexico in the back of a white cargo van along with a load of coyotes. They had thankfully made it across the border into Arizona without detection. After an exhausting three days in the desert, where she had thought she was going to die or more than one occasion, she made it into a town. Veronica had bought supplies with the money she'd gotten from selling the necklace she'd been wearing, and dyed her hair brown in the bathroom of the bus station. The rest of the money she used on a bus ticket that would take her as far as the money would allow. That's how she had found herself in Alabama.

It seemed like ages ago now, and was grateful. Those days were so lonely, so frightening; she had no desire to relive them.

Veronica turned to return to the party, having decided that she had been gone long enough. She'd wanted to be alone for a minute and collect herself. Seeing Logan happy and in love was effecting her more than she wanted to admit, more than she ever thought it would.

Before she could take a step she heard muffled voices behind the hedges closest to the house, peeking her natural curiosity. She moved quietly across the grass until she could make out the outline of two men, one of which was very large, hidden partially by the Enbom's pool house. The other was smoking a cigar what she thought to be a cigar. Her new vantage point allowed her to hear the men more clearly.

"Look, I got new eyes at the Sheriff's Office. He tells me that the Sheriff hasn't found anything new, but he's leaving no stone unturned in his investigation. I just want you to be prepared," the cigar-smoking man informed the other.

"I thought I took care of that problem, already."

"Well you did a shitty job because Mars reopened that Tommy kid's case. I'm warning you – none of this better get back to me."

"Relax. No one even knows who _I_ am, forget about trying to tie me to you. It's not gonna happen."

"It better not. This is beginning to get sloppy and I don't like sloppy," the man who Veronica thought was probably the boss, forewarned the him.

"Look, if it wasn't for your boy going all half-cocked in the first place, you wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. If you want to take it out on someone- take it out on pretty boy."

He took a puff of his cigar. "I should have told him about his father sooner, but, I can't do anything about that now. It would raise too many more questions. Besides, the gambling business is making me big money right now, not to mention the steroids. The whole setup is a gold mine."

"Fine. You're the boss. Just tell him to keep his mouth shut no matter what. We don't need him growing a conscience on us."

"I don't think we have anything to worry about. He's got way too much to lose now. Now get out of here before someone sees you."

The larger man walked away and Veronica could only catch a glimpse of him in his chauffer's uniform. She quickly walked in the opposite direction, not wanting to be spotted by the cigar smoker, but she determined to find out what was going on. She knew she should go to her father with the information but she simply couldn't. She wanted to prove to herself and to everyone that she still had it, that despite the jumbled cached of self-doubt and memories inside, she was still Veronica Mars.

The blood was running quickly through her veins and Veronica felt a shot of adrenaline, the likes of which she hadn't felt in a long time. It felt so natural, the thrill of the chase, the fear of getting caught. She remembered why she must have loved sleuthing so much.

She had barely come within sight of the party when she smacked squarely into someone's chest. Veronica gasped before teetering on her feet, afraid that she'd been caught. Strong arms steadied her and she immediately recognized both the familiar touch and scent.

"Whoa. Where are you going in such a hurry?" Logan inquired, silently thrilled he'd run across her.

"I need to go, Logan. Please let me go," she pleaded, determined to search the row of limousines at the front the estate.

"Hey, hey." Logan started. He could tell something was wrong right away. She looked a little like a cross between a wild animal and a scared child. "What is it? You can tell me."

"It's… it's nothing. Just never mind. It's not important," she told him, determining the men were long gone by now. And it wasn't worth risking Logan finding out about what she planned on doing. "Did you want something?"

"No. Not really. I just," he started, running his fingers through his hair nervously. Logan didn't know what made him act like a fumbling schoolboy every time he was around Veronica.

"What's going on with you and that lawyer?" he asked, figuring now was as a good a time as any to corner her about Brady.

Veronica gaped at him, incredulous. She didn't know whether it was because he'd interrupted her snooping, because seeing him and Sarah together had pained her more than she wanted to admit, or because he had the balls to ask her such a question. It was probably a mixture of all three.

"None of your business, Logan," she snapped.

"Hey. What's with all the hostility?"

Veronica sighed, registering that she wa_s_ being a _little_ hateful. She didn't mean to be, but it was so hard to be without him, especially with the more she realized they had no future.

"We're friends. That's all. And really, why does it matter?" she asked him, defeated.

"I don't think he's good enough for you, Veronica. I've seen creeps like him, preying on weak women. I just don't want to see you hurt."

"Weak?! That's what you think of me?!" She didn't know exactly what caused it, but that one statement made her break. She was tired of people treating her with kid gloves, walking around her like they were on eggshells.

"You have no fucking idea what I've been through, Logan, no fucking idea. Hell, even I don't know half of what happened to me. But I held it together – I made a new life for myself and when it came time to confront the past I did it, even when it hurt more than anything should have to. So you know what?? Fuck you, Logan, for thinking I'm weak."

"I didn't mean you were weak," he back-peddled. "I _know_ you're not weak. I just meant - I didn't want him taking advantage of your situation. I know you can take care of yourself but you've been through a lot, too. Some guys like to use that."

"Yeah, well, you don't have any say in who does try to take advantage of me, anyway. And for the record, Brady's not like that."

Veronica felt him studying her closely, as if she were a fragile doll, like the next words out of his mouth would break her. She wasn't weak, despite some days feeling like it. The constant disappointment she saw in people's eyes when she didn't remember certain things or say something she would have always said was discouraging. It was wearing her thin, on the inside and out, and it was very hard to keep up the rouse of being fine.

She was becoming to realize that she just wanted to be left alone, to find herself on her own. She didn't want to become the Veronica Mars that was, but one that was better – the Veronica Mars that she'd be eventually. It was becoming more and more clear that Logan could never be part of that life even as friends - not if she ever wanted to get over him.

"I have to go Logan." She made a move to get around him but he caught her by the arm, preventing him from leaving.

"Veronica, stop. Just, wait a minute."

"Logan, please. I just _can't_. If you ever loved me at all, you'll leave me alone and let me try and get on with what's left of the life I don't remember."

"That's just it, Veronica. You _do_ remember," he chided her gently. She knew that he could see her trembling as leaned close, caressing her bare arm. He pulled it back quickly, though, as if he realized who she was now, who they _both_ were now.

Veronica dropped her head down, squeezed her eyes shut as if she could will him and his words away. She did remember things about her life, like the fact that she was strong, or she used to be anyway. She could not and would not fall apart in front of Logan Echolls again. Not this time – not when she'd worked so hard these last few months to pick up the pieces - to try to move on without him. She breathed in through her nose and steeled her shoulders for the hardest thing she had had to do so far in her new life.

"No," she started, her voice raised, finger pointed in his direction. "You want to know what I remember Logan? I remember going to bed every night wondering what the large weight pressed on my chest was, why every morning I woke up with a gaping hole where my heart should be, wondering why I didn't have anyone who cared for me, who loved me!

"I remember coming back home after being missing for _ten years_, not knowing who I was or where I belonged, not knowing that all that time had friends who loved me and a father who would go to the ends of the earth to find me.

"You want to know what else I remember?" she asked, hand pressed against her chest, voice strained, her eyes beginning to well up with tears. "I remember finding out that the man I dreamed and fantasized about loving me more than any other, the supposed love of my life was married to someone else. I remember realizing the large gaping wound in my heart had a name, _your name_, and knowing that instead of my homecoming being the happiest day of my life that the deep wounds would be there forever."

She paused to collect herself before continuing. "I had to do a lot of things Logan, to keep myself alive, a lot of things I'm not proud of, but I knew it would be worth it all if I just find out where I belonged. And you know what? It was. I have my Dad and my friends.

"But I can't have you Logan, not anymore. You have to let me move on with my life and you have to move on with yours. I know you feel guilty and I am sorry, but I can't be responsible for that. That's something you'll have to deal with on your own, or with Sarah. Let her love you like I never could," she told him softly as she reached up and ran a comforting hand across his cheek. "I'll carry scars the rest of my life. The sooner you let me begin to heal, the faster they'll fade away. I'm just ready to put it all behind me."

With that she was gone, leaving Logan too stunned to move, too afraid to breathe. The fog of her words floated around him trying desperately to settle somewhere within him. But he couldn't accept that, didn't want to take her words in as truth. But the longer he stood, the more he realized she was right. He couldn't make her responsible for his own guilt. That wasn't fair to her or to Sarah and he had an obligation to them both. He had to let Veronica move on once and for all but he knew from experience that was easier said than done.

Logan turned in the opposite direction from which Veronica went, intent on returning to the party. Instead, he caught sight of Brady Carr standing only a few feet away. The look in his eyes told Logan he was ready to lay into him, that he had at least heard part of his and Veronica's conversation. In his experience, a good defense was always a better offense, so he turned his jackass mode into high gear.

"Ah, the strapping young lawyer. Out of for a midnight stroll?" Logan asked, mocking.

"Stay away from Veronica." Brady warned him. He'd affected the same serious tone Logan had used with John Enbom earlier that evening – the one that assured the recipient that he knew what was at stake and he meant business.

"Huh. That's funny. I was about to tell you the same thing."

"You only make her upset. You're not what she needs right now."

Logan laughed sardonically. "And you are?"

"Yes." Brady replied sincerely. "I can help her get her life back – I am _trying_ to help her get her life back."

"And what the hell would you know about her life? You don't' know the first thing about Veronica Mars. Oh, you think you do - you think just because you've spent time with her father, because somehow you've insinuated yourself into their small, tight knit family, probably shared a couple of fleeting romantic moments, that you're an expert. Well, let me ask you something, you self-righteous, pompous ass.

"Do you know what makes her butter her toast backwards or know the reason she hates pink? Do you know what dark shadows make her cry at night? Why she has matching scars on the inside of her palms? I'm sure you read up on her plenty - studied her, picked the brains of those around her, but you'll never know all of her." Logan spit out, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"You'll never know why she doesn't want children or is grateful she's an only child. You'll never know her most intimate pleasure spots or how to make her moan without even touching her. You'll never know what it's like to have her laid bare, spent and sated, in your arms."

Logan was going too far, he knew it, but he just couldn't stop himself. He continued his tirade. "And even if by some miracle she does sleep with you, you'll never know what it's like to have all of her, because a part of her will always belong to me. A part of her will always think of me when it's you she's in bed with. Even if it's your name on her lips, it'll be mine embedded in her soul.

"You'll never be good enough for her, Brady Carr. You can flaunt your high-dollar education and your false comforts all you want - you and I know that you'll always be a replacement for who she dreams about."

He barely got the last word out before the fist came flying at his face. Brady may have been a pretty boy, but he knew how to hit, Logan realized just a little too late. Logan managed to catch himself with his right arm before he hit the ground, and used the lower spot to his advantage. He threw his whole body into the other man, tackling him to the ground. They rolled about on the sidewalk and across the grass, inflicting pain where they could, forgetting about the party and their expensive tuxes.

Logan vaguely heard voices yelling for them to stop, but he was too far-gone to pay them any attention. He landed a punch directly to Brady's face, causing blood to gush from the lawyer's nose, before being roughly pulled up and off of him by his collar. As the other man was being helped up from his supine position on the ground, Logan was fighting the urge to punch him again. The adrenaline was still running forcefully through his veins, though, and he found it impossible to let it go.

"Stay away from Veronica or I'll show you what being an Echolls really means!" he warned. Logan threw the arms holding him back off of him, and wiped his bloodied lip on his two thousand dollar suit.

"Shut the hell up, Logan. You have no claim on her. If were half the man your wife deserved, you would realize that you're hurting everyone around you, especially those you claim to love."

Logan had good enough sense to feel guilty, swallowing hard at what deep down he knew what was the truth. It was only that Veronica made him crazy and when it came to her, it never took him very long to revert to the sad-shell of a person he'd known he was all along. It didn't matter how far he'd come or how he'd gotten there, he knew he'd be damned until the day he died.

Deflated, and with the fight drained out of him, Logan decided it was best if he headed home. He had other people who could assure that the fundraiser went smoothly. Besides, at the moment, he was doing less than a stand up job himself. He was grateful the incident took place far enough away from the tents that most people wouldn't have any idea what went on.

The haze of his anger lifted and he saw John behind him with a look halfway between shock and awe on his face. However, the sight that greeted Logan over his friend's shoulder hurt deeper than any punch to the gut he'd received only moments before. There stood Sarah, the tear tracks on her cheeks clearly showing in the moonlight, her expression one of disbelief and heartbreak. He prayed to God she hadn't heard it all.

He immediately made his way towards her, only to be stopped by a hand in the air, her justified anger apparent. "Don't Logan. Just don't."

She seemed to choose her words carefully. "I think I've been pretty damn understanding. I was your friend, remember?!" Her tone was slightly bitter and this time Logan had no doubt about the well-hidden hostility he'd thought he'd seen from her earlier. "I was with you all those months and years so I _know_ how much Veronica means to you. I was the shoulder you cried on, the one who cleaned up your liquor bottles, who helped you mail countless missing person flyers and answer telephone calls! I was there! So don't think for a minute that I don't know!

"But I'm your _wife,_ now, Logan. You told me you'd moved on from this, that I was the most important thing in your life! You've must have lied, Logan – it's the only explanation that I can think of."

Sarah paused, collected herself and continued in a softer tone. "God knows why, but I'm giving you the choice now. If you can't let go of Veronica once and for all, then fine, I'll bow out gracefully. But if you want to stick it out, honor our marriage vows, promise that you'll love me like you said you would, then I'll stay and we'll fight like hell to make this work.

"I love you Logan – I love you more than I ever should have, but it's time to make a choice. It has to be her or me. I can't live being caught up in the middle anymore. So the choice is yours, but I won't stay in a marriage where I'm second choice, the replacement. I _don't_ deserve that, Logan."

Logan listened as Sarah laid it all out before him. Ever since Veronica came back the guilt had flowed through him constantly, but now it thoroughly consumed him. She was right. Every word out of her beautiful mouth was the truth. He'd been a horrible husband. He'd promised to cherish her, to love her and only her and he'd selfishly let the past stand in the way of their future. He wanted to tell her how utterly sorry he was, how thankful that she hadn't dumped his ass long ago but she cut him off before he ever had the chance.

"I'm going home. I suggest you stay and clean up this mess you made. We will," she started before faltering slightly. "We'll talk about this more at home. We've, or I guess _you_, have got some decisions to make." With that said, Sarah departed briskly, leaving no room for arguments. He wasn't even sure he had one to give.

"Fuck!" he screamed in the air, both hand gripping his forehead. "Fuck!"

It was times like these that made him remember that he was right before - his life would always be a train wreck. He could attempt to move on, to be a better man, but he would always be Logan Echolls, jackass extraordinaire, son of a child-abusing murderer and a selfish and cowardly drunk.

He headed off for the now abandoned dinner tent, intent on stopping by the bar first. Logan needed a drink – several in fact.

An hour later and Logan was sprawled out in a white wooden chair, only a bottle to keep him company. He rather preferred it that way – the relative silence assisting in clearing his head.

Of course, it couldn't be forever, he realized, as he heard footsteps behind him.

"Fuck off, Enbom. I told you – I don't feel like partying right now."

"It looks like you're doing a pretty good job of that on your own," the unexpected voice advised him.

Surprise flickered through him yet he failed to turn at the man's voice, taking a drink from the tumbler in front of him instead.

"I suppose you're here to tell me that I'm a lunatic and to stay away from your daughter - that I should move on like I assured you I did a while ago."

Keith sat down in the chair beside him, leaning over the table, arms crossed on its white linen covering.

"You know," Keith commented thoughtfully. "I don't think I ever completely moved on from Lianne. She wasn't always an alcoholic. She was a great mother and wife once and I couldn't have been happier. I don't think a man forgets what it's like to have that."

Logan nodded and reached for a clean glass across the table, pouring the whiskey into it. "Here, have some Jack," he offered the older man.

Logan tilted his own glass towards himself, the amber liquid angled upwards in the crystal. He stared long and hard as he swirled the southern cocktail around inside, savoring every aspect of its more redeeming qualities.

"Did you know that Jack Daniel's mellows its whisky through ten feet of sugar maple charcoal? And they don't even have specific aging time- their tasters tell them when it's ready. They really know their spirits in Tennessee," Logan mused. "Maybe I'll go down there and get a job when Sarah kicks me out."

Keith wordlessly took the glass and savored the smooth burn. He did have to agree with him – they most definitely knew their whiskey.

"You know, I meant what I said the day of your wedding," Keith started. "I know you think I hate you, but I don't. I can't blame you for moving on with your life, Logan. You did what you had to do and I respect that. You've turned into a fine man and have a great life to show for it. I'm proud of you and I know… I know Veronica is too," he finished, slightly choked up.

Logan paused, his lips still attached to his glass and swallowed the emotion that the elder Mars created in him. He heard Keith take a deep breath and wondered what could be coming next.

"Listen closely, Logan, because this is very hard for me to say and I don't say it lightly." Keith paused slightly before continuing. "I _know_ my daughter loved you but – and as much as it pains me to say it - she's not really that girl anymore. I'm not sure she'll ever be her again. Are you sure you want to ruin what you've worked so hard to build for someone who may never even remember who you are?"

"Dammit Keith! She does remember! Even if she hadn't admitted as much, I can see it in her eyes! She doesn't remember all of it, not yet, but just because she doesn't, doesn't mean that I don't!" Logan paused for a moment trying to regain his composure. "I thought that seeing her would be easier now that I have Sarah. I mean, I love Sarah but it's really hard not to remember how much I love Veronica, too."

"I know. It's impossible to just turn it off." Keith reached over and touched the younger man's shoulder and turned him so that he could see him eye to eye. "But despite what you think she's told you, she doesn't remember loving you, Logan. She can't, not when she can't even remember loving me," he told Logan sadly. "I heard what Sarah told you tonight. You need to work things out with her, for her sake and for yours. I think that might be easier if you couldn't come into contact with Veronica."

"You want me to leave town?!" Logan asked incredulously.

"Maybe for just a little while. I think it would be best for all parties involved."

Logan downed the rest of his drink and nodded, knowing the Sheriff was only trying to do right by his daughter. "I'll think about it."

"Okay. That's all I ask. I'm really trying to find the right thing here but I'm pretty sure there's not a manual for this."

Logan chuckled half-heartedly. "I don't think there's ever been one where Veronica and I have been concerned."

Keith gave him a sideways smile. "Come on. Let's get you home. Sarah's probably still mad but I know she's worried, too."

"Yeah. I wanna go home."

*****

_To be continued…_

**Your reviews have been what has kept me writing on this story and others. I always appreciate hearing what you have to say!**


	6. Chapter FIVE

****Warnings:** **This should be read by people age 15 and older. This fic will deal with more mature content from here on out!** There is sexual content in this chapter as well as harsh language.

**Title**: _Searching For Life_- Chapter Five (6/7)

**Author:** LoVefan4ever

**Rating:** R

**Word Count:** 5302 this chapter; 33,540 total.

**Characters/Pairings:** Logan/Veronica, Logan/OFC, Keith, various others.

**Spoilers:** Goes AU during 3x13 (Post-Game Mortem).

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of _Veronica Mars_ or its characters. I do not make any money from this.

**Summary:** Sometimes finding what you've been searching for is harder than not finding it at all; letting it go is even harder. This is a LoVe story that spans years, three-quarters of a continent and maybe a little bloodshed. They wouldn't be epic without it.

**A/N:** This is an ongoing Christmas present for vanessagalore for vm_santa over on livejournal. Also written for the vmfic_gameon community's final challenge round.

**A/N2: ** A kazillion thanks to my beta, Sabrina, who held my hand through months of whining. Words cannot describe how much I love her : ) Also, I made tons of changes after she'd already beta'd it, so all mistakes are mine. I'm sure there are plenty.

_She looks down from above watching as the ocean crashes against the rocks, angry and harsh. Her dad is there, hugging her, telling he loves her no matter what she's done. _

"_We'll fix it," he assures her. But then he's angry, shouting about drugs and lies and she gets angry, too. She can't take his yelling anymore and gives him a hard shove off the cliff and into the water. She doesn't even flinch._

"_Wallace? Is that you?" The sun behind him is harsh and she squints to see if it's really her friend. It is, but there is no emotion in his face. He shuts her in the darkness and she begins to cry. Her head is pounding mercilessly; her fists are pounding, too, against a metal cave. She stops and reaches up, feeling the stickiness of blood on her forehead. She can hear voices outside and she cries out for her dad, for Wallace, for anyone to help her._

"_Please, please! I can fix it. Whatever I've done, I'll fix it. I promise." Her pleas go unanswered and suddenly she can't breathe. Water overtakes her; her limbs grow weak. She feels her life slip away and sees a sweet elderly angel in the light._

Veronica's eyes flew open, her heart still beating rapidly from her dream. As she took in her surroundings, she tried to will her breathing back to normal, recognizing that she was still safely in her bed.

The same dream had been plaguing her the past few nights, ever since she heard the two men in the shadows at the gala. The one's voice seemed so familiar to her, yet she still couldn't place it. Veronica felt like she might be on the brink of something big, something that was related to her disappearance, but it was difficult to fit all the pieces together. It was all fractions of time and people jumbled up together - the same way her mind had been trying to communicate with her before. Unfortunately, it turned out to be no less disturbing.

A large part of her life had been coming back to her bit by bit, with the help of her friends and family. She was not the same though, and had doubts she would ever be. Too much had happened, both in her own life and the lives of those she cared about, for her to ever be the old Veronica again. But she did come to one conclusion – old Veronica would have stopped at nothing to find out what happened to her, and that drive and determination was something she'd be keeping. Veronica Mars - super sleuth - was back in business.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Hey. It's me. Veronica," she introduced tentatively.

Logan chuckled on the other end of the line. "I knew it was you. No need to get all formal."

"Oh, right. Caller ID. Yeah, sorry." She sounded embarrassed and vulnerable and Logan immediately felt the guilt that had surrounded him lately. "I hate to ask, but I need a favor," she added quickly.

"Sure. Anything," he reassured her.

"I need the guest list from your party the other night. I tried to get it from your personal assistant but for some reason my charms wouldn't work on her. You must have put the fear of God into her - Or maybe she's just too caught up in _your _charms," she told him, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"Wow. I must have her trained right if the infamous Veronica Mars couldn't weasel a list out of little Miss Volleyball Barbie."

"Oh? She's beautiful _and _she's athletic? Sarah must be the most understanding wife on the planet," she fished.

To say that she was understanding was the understatement of the century. Veronica had no idea just how much – way more than he deserved. He'd almost pushed her too far, though. When he'd gotten home from the Gala three nights ago, Sarah had been waiting for him. She told him like it was, and how it was going to be if they were going to remain married. They'd talked about Keith's suggestion of leaving town and to his surprise, Sarah agreed. She'd never been the type to run from anything and her job at the hospital was very important to her. Still, Logan was torn.

"She is," he answered simply, effectively ending that particular conversation. "I'll be in your area later this afternoon – want me to drop it off?

"No!" she practically shouted. "I mean… no, I appreciate the thought, but I don't think that's a good idea." She paused. "Not after what happened the other night. You can just fax it to me. I'll text you the number."

Logan thought for a minute. "Yeah. Okay. I can do that."

"Thanks, Logan. I do appreciate this. And, hey… I know that things are really messed up right now, but I do hope that one day when things settle down, when I'm a little stronger," she paused, seemingly gathering up courage. "When the wounds aren't so fresh, that we can be… I don't know… friends, maybe. I don't know how you feel about that, or how Sarah feels about that, or…

"Veronica," he interrupted, smiling through the phone. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Not for the first time in his life, Keith Mars felt helpless. He was all over the place in the investigation into Veronica's disappearance but none of the clues seemed to fit. He knew he had to be close, he could feel it; he knew it had to be tied into his drug investigation, too. He simply didn't know how. There were too many pieces to the puzzle and he was missing too many major ones to be able to complete the picture.

He rubbed his eye tiredly. The office had pretty much been his resting place for the past couple of weeks. He should be at home with his daughter, soaking up every last second of her company. After all, she'd been gone for ten years. But the not knowing consumed him. Somebody hurt his baby girl and they were going to pay if it was the last thing he ever did. The only bright side was that Veronica wasn't anywhere near the investigation. He selfishly loved that at least as of now, she didn't seem to have the desire to pursue private investigating. Keith hoped he could keep it that way.

After a warrant to search David Gallo's apartment, computer and other personal effects had turned up nothing, Keith had revisited the young man's life. He'd found out that the kid was a whiz at computers and was working at Stolz Industries while he attended community college at night.

He'd interviewed everyone in the main office of Stolz Industries, more than one-hundred employees, attempting to see if anyone out of the ordinary had came into their workplace on the day David had first called the Sheriff's Department. Unfortunately, it had been more than a month and memories were fuzzy at best. All scheduled appointments had checked out. The security cameras had been a wash, too. - they were only kept for thirty days.

His police instincts told him that there was something illegal going on, at least. Mel Stolz was a crook and everyone knew it – there had simply never been anything concrete to hang him on. But Keith wasn't going to let it go. If only he'd been the one to handle the tip-line call the day David had called him, he might have done something differently. But what was done, was done. They could only move forward.

There was a quick knock on the frame of Keith's opened door. He looked up just as Brady Carr poked his head in.

"Hey. Sheriff. I had to come over and drop off some papers and thought I might see if you're free for lunch."

Keith tried to keep the weariness out of his voice when he responded. "Thanks, Brady. I certainly appreciate the offer but I think I might spend my lunch break in that big comfy chair over there," he said, pointing to an over-stuffed green chair in the corner. "I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Brady stepped inside the office. "No offense, but I can tell. You look like shit. There aren't any new breaks in the case, are there?"

"There aren't. And that's the problem. I just feel like I'm so close… That I'm missing that one little piece that would tie everything together. It's in here somewhere," he told the young man, gesturing to the pile of paperwork and RAP sheets littering his desk. "I know it is and I can't rest until I find it."

"You're a good Sheriff, Keith Mars, and an even better father," Brady told him sincerely.

Keith smiled warmly at him, thankful that he had the support of such an upstanding young man, who was as dedicated to finding truth and justice as he was.

"I'll tell you what. Since you can't have me, why don't you take the next best thing," the Sheriff told him with a wink. "I've been neglecting Veronica a lot lately. Why don't you swing by and see if she'd like to go to lunch with you."

The young district attorney's face lit up at the suggestion, leaving no doubt that Brady was crazy about his daughter.

"Actually, that sounds like a great idea. Keep me updated on everything and make sure to call me if there's anything new, okay?"

"I will," Keith assured him.

Brady turned to walk out of the office before turning back once more to face the Sheriff. "Oh, and Keith - Don't beat yourself up. You'll get 'em. I know it."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Brady followed her up the stairs of her apartment complex, both of them still laughing at his earlier misfortune. They had stopped off at an ice cream shop by the beach for a little dessert after their lunch date, where he'd had a little accident with his double-dipped cone and the swinging door. Both he and his brand new suit lost.

"That was fun. I haven't had that much fun since… well in a long time," Veronica told him once she reached her door and turned to face him. "Thank you."

"I'm glad me ruining my brand new suit amuses you so much. I guess I might need to invest in a bigger wardrobe," Brady informed her, a twinkle in his eyes.

Veronica giggled, the sound foreign even to her own ears. The burden of life weighed on her so heavily, it was hard to remember she was still young and supposed to have fun every once in a while.

The sudden silence and the way Brady swayed the slightest bit forward, clued Veronica in to his intention of kissing her. The question of whether she was ready for the next step swirled in her head. She knew her father loved him, and why wouldn't he? Brady Carr was handsome and kind, had a great job and a bright future where he could make the difference he wanted. She had no doubts he would love her well.

There was one problem, though – despite desperately trying not to, she still loved Logan. When she dreamed at night, it was Logan's breath on her skin - Logan's name on her lips when she pleasured herself. Her head constantly berated her for something so wrong but if there was one thing she'd learned over a lifetime of trying to forget – the heart wants what the heart wants. And for as long as she'd known what real love was, her heart had always wanted Logan. It still did.

Brady took a few steps closer to her and slowly raised his hand to her cup her cheek. She unconsciously leaned into the soft brush of his fingers, having missed the feeling of being touched so intimately. She wanted to give in, to revel in the feel of being loved by someone who was available to love her back, but she knew it wasn't fair. Maybe someday, but it couldn't be today.

She pulled back quickly. "I'm sorry, Brady. I just…" She looked away, sighing deeply as the pain clouded her eyes. "It's not the right time. I'm not ready. Not yet."

Brady stepped backwards as a proper gentleman should, allowing her some space. The guilt flooded her as she took in the dejected man in front of her. He didn't deserve this. None of them did.

"It's Logan, isn't it? You still love him." It was a statement, rather than a question, revealing that he could see what probably everyone in Neptune could, too. She still felt the need to protest.

"Brady –"

He put his palm up to stop her from protesting. "Hey. I get it – I wish I didn't, but I do. I'd just like to know the truth so that I know what I'm really up against. You know a lawyer's worst fear is to be blindsided," he told her with a hint of a sad smile.

Again, Veronica thought about lying, making up some other of a million excuses she could give, but he deserved the truth and frankly, she was tired of holding it in.

"I do." It was a simple answer for a colossally complicated epic mess, but it was the truth, and Brady didn't need any excuses or explanations.

"Okay," he said, head his nodding in acceptance. He suddenly laughed, confusing Veronica a little. "I was kind of hoping you'd say no, but I knew. Deep down I knew what the answer would be."

He turned serious again, his features turning thoughtful. "I think we all know."

"Brady-" she started, regret in her voice.

"No. Hey – it's cool. I'll just get a few drinks with the guys later, maybe try out a few of my old pick-up lines – repair my bruised ego," he told her, laughing. "As for you, Veronica Mars, I'll see you later."

Veronica watched him descend the stairs and walk out to his car. She smiled and allowed herself to think that maybe someday she'd be free to love a man like Brady Carr – someday.

"Did you mean it?"

The familiar voice came out of nowhere, startling her. He noticed.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I was waiting for you when Brady dropped you off. I slipped around the corner until he left," he explained. "I didn't want him to see me after… well, I'm assuming you know what happened after you left the other night."

"I know enough. And as I told you earlier, it's not a good idea for you to be here," she retorted tersely. She turned and unlocked the apartment door and despite her objections, held it open after she entered. Logan followed, taking it as an invitation.

Once the door was closed behind him, Veronica laid into him.

"What _are_ you doing skulking around my apartment anyway, Logan?"

He held up a manila file folder, giving it a little shake. "I believe you needed this list."

"_And I asked you_ to just to fax it over."

"Yeah, well – I'm not so good with fax machines, or directions for that matter, and it sounded important so…"

Veronica sighed. "I do appreciate it – I really do," she replied, sounding torn. "But you really should go now."

He ignored her, not wanting to leave – at least not without some answers and not without telling her the news.

"So what do you want with this list, anyway?"

"Would you believe I wanted to write some thank you cards? I mean, so many people came up to me offering their support, I just didn't want to forget anyone."

There was no way she could have thought he would buy that lie but she apparently had to give it a try. Veronica Mars was allergic to the truth, at least when it came to sharing it with someone else. She hadn't changed _that_ much.

The incredulous look he gave her told her she shouldn't have bothered. He always did read her well. "Really, though, Veronica. You're not getting yourself into trouble, are you? I'm not sure if you remember or not, but you just happen to be a magnet for it," he told her pointedly.

"No. Nothing like that. Just background work for a case my father's letting me help out with. You know – helping me get back in the swing of things."

Logan eyed her carefully. He still didn't fully believe her, but he was treading on thin ice as it was – with her _and_ Sarah. He made a mental note to figure out a way to ask Keith about it later.

He dropped his head and began rubbing the back of it with his left hand as he always did when he was nervous.

"Yeah, so…. the file was just an excuse. There is something I needed to talk to you about."

"I thought we already covered this, Logan," she told him, exasperated.

"I came to apologize in person for the other night. The things you said… you were right. I didn't mean for things to get so out of hand, and I really didn't mean to put you in such an awkward place. It's just… Everything is so fucked up."

Logan watched as her eyes filled with tears and he resisted the urge to wipe them away. He swallowed thickly, desperate to hold back his own tears. "You were right. I need to let you go. I need to let you move on and if that means being with Brady, then so be it. I've only ever wanted what makes you happy, Veronica."

The air hung thick between them, weighed with tension, and Logan thought if he didn't lighten the mood he would break. "I'm not sorry I punched him, tough. Punk deserved it," he revealed with a smirk.

"Logan!" she reprimanded. But then she began to smile and he decided that he would freeze that image in his mind to hold onto forever. He held her gaze as he handed over the file. She tried to grab it but her attention was elsewhere and it fell to the ground, papers flying everywhere.

He bent down and helped her gather the numerous pages. As Veronica reached for the last one, his large, strong hand covered hers. She looked up, locking them both in a stare they couldn't seem to break. Rising together slowly, Veronica managed to slide her hand from Logan's but still couldn't look away.

"You never answered my question," Logan told her. "Earlier, with Brady. Did you mean what you said?"

Veronica didn't have to ask. She knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Logan – you said we were moving past this. Does it even really matter?"

"It shouldn't – but it does."

"Why? Everything is already so complicated. Why add fuel to the fire?"

"Because I'm a masochist, because I can never leave well enough alone, because – " he stopped momentarily. "Because I never really knew the truth about how you felt."

Again, she wanted to say no, especially to this boy – man - standing in front of her, but the hurt, the vulnerability she saw in his eyes screamed that he needed the truth from her for once.

Veronica was able to finally look away. She couldn't look at him and still gather the courage to say what she needed to say. "Yes. I meant it. I've tried so hard not to - God knows I've tried, but it won't go away. I'm pretty sure that I always will. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry I never told you," she added softly.

Logan looked to the ceiling, and chuckled nervously. It wasn't at all the reaction she was expecting.

"I'm not sure if this makes what I'm about to say harder or easier." He looked back at her, taking in her confusion. "Your dad thinks it would be better if I left town."

She opens her mouth in shock. "What? Leave Neptune for good?"

He nods. "Yeah. Sarah and I have talked about it. We'll be going back to San Francisco."

"What about your job? What about those families you're helping?" _What about me_?, she wanted to ask but knew she didn't have the right.

"Since the semester has only just started, the university got an adjunct professor to come in and take over my classes. I'm keeping my office for now – I think they're hoping I'll come back in the spring. As for my clients, I'll be helping them from the FotM office in San Fran. I'll be there a lot since I won't be teaching anywhere."

"Oh. Sounds like you've got everything worked out." An awkward quiet fell over them, before Veronica finally spoke. "Well, I guess this is goodbye then." She hoped it didn't sound as bitter out loud as it did in her head.

"Yeah. I guess it is."

"Veronica – "

"Logan –" both started at the same time.

They laughed together, easing the immense tension in the small apartment.

"You first." Logan offered.

"I just wanted to say thanks – you know – for helping me. I know it hasn't been easy for you. Or for Sarah. So, thanks," she added with a shy smile.

"I wanted to do more. You can't know how much I wish things weren't so complicated. I actually wish a lot of things. I mean, not that I wish there wasn't Sarah. I love Sarah, Veronica – I do. But she'll never be you."

She blushed as his admission, feeling both a pang of jealously and guilt. "You don't have to explain, Logan. It wouldn't be us if it weren't complicated. And for the record, it's good that you're happy – that you found someone to love who can love you more than I probably ever could."

Inside her heart was breaking, being shattered into a million pieces as she realized this might be the last time she would see the man in front of her – at least up close and personal. She hoped he couldn't tell, or they might never walk away from each other. He didn't deserve that. He deserved a life with a regular, healthy girl, one without the kind of baggage she had strapped on her own back. Logan was finally free of that, but she'd seen it coming back slowly as he struggled with her return. This was her chance to do the right thing – to set him free to love and to be loved.

She watched as he simply nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. She knew he didn't trust his voice to speak, but it didn't matter - no more words were needed.

After what seemed like forever Logan reached forward to brush a stray hair away from her face. Taking one small step forward, he got as close as he could without being pressed against her. His thumb gently caressed her jaw before sliding upwards. Despite every effort not to, Veronica leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his palm against her check, his fingertips in her hair. The simple touch set her insides on fire – a stark contrast to the way she'd felt only minutes earlier with Brady.

Logan lifted her face towards him, but she silently refused to look at him, staring at the beautiful hollow in his neck instead. She knew if she did, all would be lost.

His lips touched her forehead, kissing her once above the eyebrow and then longer in the center. Tears were rolling down her face but she simply let them be. He released her, and she watched his hands found his pockets. Logan said nothing more – simply backed up to the door and then turned around and left. It was only then that she let herself finally breathe.

She had gotten what she'd wanted, or at least what she knew they both needed. Out of all that she could remember, her heart had never felt heavier.

An hour or so after Logan left, Veronica found herself on the couch watching some brainless television show, a long-empty container of ice cream beside her. She'd already changed into her sleep shorts and tank, hoping comfortable clothes and a familiar couch would bring some type of relief to her broken heart.

Her Dad had called a little earlier, reminding her of his poker night with the guys – or at least that's the story he gave her. Veronica was smart enough to know it was a cover up for the amount of time he spent at the office on her behalf. He never wanted her to worry. Even still, she'd almost broken down and asked him to come home, not wanting to be alone, but she hadn't. Ben and Jerry would have to do.

The knock on the front door startled her, and she took glanced to where her keys lay, assuring the presence of her trusty can of mace should she need it. Veronica got up and cautiously made her way to the entryway, relaxing when she recognized the silhouette of her visitor. She barely got the door open before Logan rushed inside, forcing her to step back quickly.

"I can't. I'm sorry. I can't," he told her hurriedly.

He looked positively stricken. "Logan- what?"

"You're mine. You're mine and I won't let anyone else have you."

Lips crashing to hers cut off any other retort she had for him. She was shocked only for a moment before throwing her arms around him and allowing him to claim her in any way he wanted. His tongue found its way inside her welcoming mouth, exploring every inch of her with a wildly possessive frenzy.

He shoved the door shut with his foot and pushed her further into the living room. He grabbed her by the backs of the thighs, lifting her up easily and bringing her even closer to him. Veronica's legs wrapped around him readily, and he stumbled to the wall to brace them both.

Seeking hands met her willing flesh as they both grappled to touch and feel every inch of each other.

"I want you to say it," he growled. "_Tell me_. Tell me you remember this – _us_ – how we could have set the world ablaze with what always lay between us. Tell me that you're mine, Veronica – that always have been and always will be. Tell me that no other man will ever be able to replace me in your life. _Please_."

It was incredibly erotic, him claiming her with his words as his hands marked her body. "I am yours. Nobody else. Just you. It's just you, Logan, just you," she chanted as he worked his mouth down her neck.

"God, Veronica. I've missed you," he confessed between kisses. His hands slid underneath her thin nightshirt and squeezed her breasts roughly as his other hand moved along the back of her thigh. "Tell me you want this as much as I do."

Her mind was foggy, and couldn't keep up with the fevered pace, barely aware of what he was saying. "Logan, please." At this point, she wasn't sure if she was asking him to stop or begging him to continue; they both seemed like bad ideas.

Their uncontrollable need for each other was frightening, taking on a life of its own. Before she knew it, her shorts were on the floor and her own hands shook as she furiously unbuckled Logan's belt and pushed his pants down as far as she could.

In a small moment of clarity, she realized what they were about to do, realized there would be no coming back from this.

"Wait. Logan- wait. This is only going to turn out badly. I don't want you to hate yourself in the morning – I don't want you to hate _me_ in the morning."

He ignored her concerns, blinded by his passion. "I love you, Veronica, I can't let you go. I just can't," he pleaded as he buried his head into her shoulder.

She registered the wetness on her shoulder was not sweat but from Logan's tears and it prompted some of her own. They would both be damned forever but there was no turning back now.

It was crude and it was desperate - like he'd just surfaced from a near drowning in the murky sea, his lungs screaming for the breath of life. His desire for her had always been a little overwhelming but now, faced with losing her again, he found it hard to think. He hadn't even realized how much he _really _missed her until this moment.

Her nails dug into his back as she moaned his name, deep and lusty. It reverberated right into his soul, filling the deeply hidden crevices with thinly veiled hope.

It was so primal – the way his whole body practically shook with need, craving their union. Logan simply could not wait any longer. He was grateful that Veronica had already shoved his pants down to his knees, allowing him to pull her panties aside and relish in the moment that she was his again.

Every single part of him - body, mind and soul – was entangled in the betrayal, but for being so wrong, everything felt so right. Veronica Mars was his and always would be; neither of them could deny it any longer. He was home, finally – deep inside a woman that wasn't his wife. The irony wasn't lost on him.

When it was over, both sated and spent, they slid to the floor- Veronica laying half on top of him. They were quiet, the only sound being their ragged breathing. Logan's tears had finally subsided, but he could still feel hers on his chest. It worried him a little.

"Veronica? Are you okay? Without the haze of sex clouding his vision, he pulled her back and looked at her – really looked at her. Her eyes were sad and disappointed and he finally realized the consequences for them all. He'd not only cheated on his wife but he'd made Veronica a party to the very thing that had turned her world upside down before she was even born.

He didn't think he could ever forgive himself.

Quickly disentangling himself from Veronica, he scrambled to his feet. He shamefully attempted to pull his pants up as he stumbled over to the bathroom, barely making it into the room before he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

What had he done?

"Congratulations, Logan- you've just made us into the two people we hate most," she spoke sharply.

He glanced up at her from his position on the cold tile floor, not missing the utter anguish written clearly on her face. He opened his mouth to say _something_, _anything_ to somehow make it better, but she cut him off.

"Go home to your wife, Logan."

He wiped the tears flowing furiously down his face, and tried to keep himself from completely losing it as she walked away. He heard the door to her bedroom slam shut and the lock click into place.

Logan collected himself as best he could, in a hurry to leave before he had to face her again. He didn't think he could bear it. He stood in the living room of the Mars apartment, looking back at the closed door one more time. It all seemed so tragic, so irreparable, _so final_. He supposed it was.

… _To be continued_

***Gasp* Can you believe it? An actual chapter? Review and you'll more. I won't quit…. On ANY of my fics. You might just have to be very, very, very patient ; ) But seriously, THANK YOU to all of you who continue to make my day by reviewing this fic and my others. I heart you.**


End file.
